A Constant Reminder
by Finnobhair
Summary: She longed to make a real difference in the world, and she's prepared for the cost of standing up and fighting for her future. She owns her own life now and she doesn't owe anyone an explanation. But she can only run so far, after all, everyone has a past.
1. Chapter 1

' **A CONSTANT REMINDER'**

 **Rated: M – for violence, language, and mature/adult situations**

 **Summary: She longed to make a real difference in the world, and she's prepared for the cost of standing up and fighting for her future. She owns her own life now and she doesn't owe anyone an explanation. But she can only run so far, after all, everyone has a past.**

 **(Any historical mistakes I make, I apologize for beforehand. This is a sort of historical-fiction, so any interruption in factual events should be overlooked.)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own 'Band of Brothers' – the miniseries or the book – nor do I intend ANY disrespect to the real men of Easy Company. All that is mine is Alice McRae and a deep, profound respect for the real heroes.**

The phone was cold against her ear and it would have been a welcome sensation if not for the voice attached to it.

"…acting out like this is not becoming. You are throwing your entire career away, you selfish child…" Without flinching, Alice gently hung the receiver back into the cradle of the payphone outside the bar. This version of affection from her mother was anything but foreign to her, and she had expected this reaction.

Taking a deep breath in the balmy evening, she smoothed her dark pencil skirt and walked into the bar, her head held high.

This was her choice, her life, and it was about damn time she took hold of the reins.

She had been in her fair share of bars and nightclubs, but this marked the first time a chaperone wasn't hovering nearby. This was also the first bar she'd been into since she got off the bus in Georgia. Once the thick heat had greeted her, she vowed she would treat herself to a drink as a last hoorah before her first day of assimilation with her company, which was scheduled for tomorrow – bright and early.

Smoke and music enveloped her frame as she made her way toward the wooden bar. It was crowded, noisy; everything was cast in a dim glow from the sparse yellowed light bulbs that were mounted along the walls.

She grinned to herself: no one knew her here. Technically, the only individuals who knew who she once was were her C.O., who she had yet to meet, and the Colonel in charge of her outfit…and they had every intention of ignoring it.

Squeezing her way to the bar, she surveyed the place. Space was limited – men in olive colored uniforms littered the floor, as did a handful of local girls brave enough to venture in.

Looking around discreetly, Alice knew there weren't any other women here that were in her unique position. She was technically a 'volunteer paratrooper' for the 101st. She'd secured the position from a contact she made while in basic training, an admirer really, who was able to bend the rules for her when she proved herself on the firing range. But Alice had no intention of packing up and going home when the men were shipped off eventually. She was going with them…and she knew once the higher-ups saw her shoot, they'd be stupid to let her walk away.

"What can I get for you, doll?" the older man behind the bar called after making his way over to her.

Her keen hazel eyes drifted over the bottles and she sighed, "make it a scotch, please. Neat". She could use a stiff drink after the lecture she'd received over the phone.

"You got it", he nodded, grabbing a short glass and pouring in the amber liquid.

A splash of scotch landed on the varnished bar top, Alice studied it, taking a breath and willing her mother's voice out of her head, "how much do I owe you?"

"It's all yours, courtesy of the trooper over there", he gestured to the end of the bar where a small group of men smiled at her, one tipping his glass in the air.

Bemused, Alice softly smiled; she hadn't been in the bar for five minutes. Of course, the women were outnumbered – and what women were here, all had dancing partners. Funny thing was, these men had no idea they'd be seeing her on base the very next day…which meant she shouldn't stay long. "Thank you", she nodded to the barkeep and stepped back, making her way over to the men to give her thanks. If there was one thing she was good at, it was making small talk and a quick exit before having to commit to a dance. _The distraction couldn't hurt_ , she thought as she sipped her scotch and placed her heels one in front of the other to the beat of the music.

"Evening, miss", the man who had tipped his glass spoke first. He had light auburn hair and brown eyes, and he stood up as she held her hand out.

"Evening, Corporal", she nodded, taking care to address him by rank, shaking his warm hand, and admiring his grip.

"Name's Donald, Don Malarkey, miss", he was a few inches taller than her and incredibly polite, not to mention handsome. She had to silently remind herself not to engage him seriously – she was going to be fighting alongside him…plus, as her past had shown her, every man has a dark side.

"Alice McRae", she coolly offered her name to him, idly wondering if the addition of a uniform automatically made a man more attractive. Seeing his eyes shine at her in the dark bar, she prompted herself to keep it to one drink tonight. She had no business being flirted with, not when she'd be training with these men…and certainly not so soon after breaking things off with her ex-fiancé.

The man beside Don spoke next, his gruff Philly accent obvious, "do I get to make eyes with you if I buy you a drink next?" he nudged Don who turned red.

"I have a big day tomorrow, so I'm afraid Don here has bought my one and only drink for the night", she smiled in a well-rehearsed manner, her tone even and practiced. She naturally covered up her own accent.

"Big day, huh?" the man prodded. The dark haired man had probing eyes – it made Alice feel like he could see right through her.

"Do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight?" another man spouted, his nose pink from alcohol, his blond hair sticking up from being in his cap.

"Can we see your glass slippers?" a dark eyed man snarked nearby.

The man with the accent squinted at them, "what the hell are you two talkin' about?"

"Cinderella", pink nose shrugged in an obvious manner, patting his hair down but not making any progress to tame it.

"Skip's right, Bill", brown eyes nodded, "like from the book. Ah, but we should 'a known better than to quote books around you though".

"Lay off, George", Bill said with a sideways glance.

"Sorry about them", Don spoke, his eyes on Alice.

She shrugged, "it's alright. I just came over to thank you for the drink." She downed the rest of her glass gracefully and nodded. It was time to make her exit, "thank you, Don. It was a pleasure meeting you". She eyed the other three, addressing them, "Bill, Skip, George…it's been entertaining".

"You're not gonna stay for a dance?" Skip guffawed, looking bewilderedly at his friends.

"Jesus, Skip", Don laughed awkwardly, rubbing his neck as Alice tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Who's up for a dance?" another man sauntered up, smiling.

"Tab, this is Alice. She's ditching us because she has a big day tomorrow and cannot stay", George informed the new arrival.

"Even though Don bought her a…what the hell were you drinking?" Bill asked, eyeing her glass, "apple juice?"

"Apple juice?" Tab laughed and looked pointedly at her, "you not twenty-one?"

"Hell, a pretty girl like her can order whatever she wants", George shrugged, his nose down in his pint glass.

"Apple juices all around!" Skip called out to no one, giggling.

Alice was entirely amused by the attempt at flirting by each and every one of them. She'd been a target many times of casual flirting – but an assault flirtation by five men? This was a first. It was overwhelming if she was being honest. Suddenly it felt as if she was 'on-the-clock' and that came with the responsibility of laughing at everyone's jokes, letting them all have a dance, and keeping her accent in check in order to sound 'more presentable and lady-like'.

That was her old life though – and she didn't have to play by those rules anymore; she didn't have a contract to fulfill. She also reminded herself that these men saw her in a nice dress now, but once they took a look at her in her olive drabs, she won't be treated this way anymore.

She smiled softly at Don's face; he was obviously embarrassed by his comrades.

She thought it was a little bit of a shame, he seemed like a decent man – but now, given her status as a Private in the United States Army, there was no way she could have anything to do with him.

Bill leaned in closer, "where are you from, doll-face?"

"Cutting to the important questions there, Gonorrhea?" George barked.

Tab grinned, "what's it gonna take to get a dance with you?"

"I'd apologize again for them, but they would just do something else", Don offered, cutting in front of Tab to stand closer to her, "Besides, I'm sure you're used to guys tripping over themselves to get a dance with you".

Alice smiled tightly at Don's bashful compliment. She was unsure of how to respond to him, so she turned to Bill, "it was scotch, not apple juice." Skip raised his hand to the bar tender and Alice intercepted him, "I promise I don't need another." He pouted at her and she continued, "like I said, big day tomorrow." Her eyes skipped to Don's and held them there, _he was very cute_ , "I'll be seeing you". Smiling, she turned and walked away from them, wondering how surprised they'd be when they saw her the next day on their turf. She'd leave them speechless.

OOOOOO

Alice was up before the sun the next day. She had been assigned to private quarters when she first arrived, just over a day ago. The Colonel in charge, Colonel Sink, had wanted her to acclimate to the heat before assigning her to the general barracks. Plus, today buses of transfers were arriving – Alice would be grouped in with them.

Colonel Sink was by no means an unpleasant man, he was, however, unconvinced that the Army needed a volunteer to train with the men – no matter how recommended she came. Alice promised herself after she met him, that he'd eat his words once he saw what she could do.

When she signed up for this, she intended to go the full nine-yards, give everything she had, and commit to this fully. She had left her career and her life for this – for something that meant she could make a difference.

Making a difference meant making sacrifices. Walking into the barbershop on the corner of Camp Toccoa, she knew what had to be done. The morning air held a crisp edge to it and Alice tried to savor it – she knew before long, it'd be hotter than hell out here.

"This was a direct order?" the barber asked her once he'd gotten her into the large, black leather chair.

"Yes it was", she answered calmly, eyeing her shoulder-length honey blonde hair. It wasn't actually an order, per se, but Alice knew it was for the best – she could read between the lines.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked again.

"It's not an amputation, its just hair. Cut it", she shrugged lightly, "Katherine Hepburn did it ten years ago, I've no idea why it's still shocking".

The barber picked up his scissors, "it's because you're a pretty girl".

"I think you should be more shocked that this pretty girl volunteered for the paratroopers", she quipped quietly.

"Fair enough, little lady", he smirked and started on cutting off her hair.

Alice could care less about the length of her hair. Frankly, it was a reminder of who she once was, a token of her life she had chosen to walk away from.

Sitting still in the chair, she tried shrugging off the annoyance of being called 'pretty'. It was meant as a compliment, she knew that…but for everyone in her old life, it's all she was valued for. Hell, it was what she got _paid_ to be: nothing but pretty. Before her mother had moved them away from her father, he taught her that her actions always spoke louder than her words and that she was more than just a pretty face.

For all of her years away from her father, she had grown up using that motto. Her mother never shook it from her, not that she didn't try.

"All done, Private", the barber nodded sometime later.

Alice looked at her reflection. She now understood why people referred to it as a 'pixie haircut'. If anything, it made her look more feminine. A smirk slid onto her face – she had never had her hair this short. It was oddly liberating. _She liked it._ "Thank you", she said, her fingers playing with her hair, unused to the sensation.

"You are welcome", he nodded, "and may I say that I think it suits you".

Alice laughed, "thank you, sir."

"You _do_ look familiar though, I have to say, I thought that right when you walked in".

"I get that all the time actually, you'd be surprised", Alice responded and handed him the charge plus a tip, "thanks again!" With that, she slipped off the barber cape and out of the shop before he could put two and two together. It _was_ a question she'd received all the time, but that was her past.

She wasn't the glamorous pinup anymore.

She was simply Private Alice McRae, U.S. sniper.

OOOOOO

"I expect you to understand this, considering your…gender. Your showers will be at nights, away from the men". Captain Sobel, her Commanding Officer, spoke down his nose at her. He'd already put her to the test that morning, running the mountain they called Currahee twice already, a couple of hours apart, followed by relay drills and field tests. Why he was making her redo tests that she had accomplished while at basic training was something she didn't know. "Fraternization is off limits", he barked, "based off your history, it's only a matter of time before someone identifies you. Do not engage with the men unless it is necessary. If you're caught in bed with one of them, I'll dismiss you so fast that your head will spin". Suppressing the urge to raise her eyebrows at his insinuation that she was loose, Alice stared straight forward, ignoring the fact that Sobel knew who she was and that he'd probably viewed her photos. "Other than that, you will be moved into general barracks this afternoon before range drills. You need to get used to living with the men. You asked to be a paratrooper, now it's time you know what you've gotten yourself into."

"Yes sir", she responded, focusing on the pain coming from her cramping feet.

"I know you think you're pretty good with a rifle, but you've got competition here at Toccoa." Sobel nodded, his eyes staring her down. "Your pretty face got you in here, and I'm sure there are a hundred ordinary women out there that can shoot better than you can", she clenched her jaw at his words, "you're gonna have to put your money where your mouth is, McRae".

"Yes sir."

"Your things will be moved to barracks this afternoon." He stepped closer to her then, his voice low and foreboding, "I'm serious about the no fraternization policy. Even with that short haircut of yours, you're still a target here. I expect you to keep your legs closed." Her silence was short before he spoke again, "Go get a rifle and get yourself to the rifle range. I'll be introducing another group of transfers there - find them. Dismissed".

After saluting, Alice got out of Sobel's office as fast as she could without running. Her heart was pounding in anxiety at the little lecture she'd just received. She wasn't about to go and get a boyfriend here – that's not what she was here for! The implication that that's what she had in mind was downright insulting.

Alice could feel blisters already starting to form on her ankles inside of her stiff jump boots. The men at camp hadn't seen her yet, she'd been at drills all morning, plus her arrival hadn't been 'announced'. It was like she was any other transfer – so as she jogged through the barracks buildings to go retrieve her rifle, she was discovered and the cat calling started. Beginning as a low hum of surprised and confused comments, it quickly evolved to laughs and pointing.

Alice shoved down her emotional response to the display. She was here for a job, to start a new life – one that she owned – and she owed nobody an explanation or apology.

Ducking quickly into the weapons garage, she walked right up to the private manning the counter.

"I need an M1 Carbine, thirty-cal", she requested confidently.

The lanky private stared at her unmoving, "are you supposed to be here?" he asked in a southern drawl.

Reaching within herself and finding the fighter ready, she spoke back, "I'm here on orders, I've no time to mess around." Her Bostonian accent broke through the careful façade she'd had drilled into herself for years. In the back of her mind, she knew her father – wherever he was – would have been proud.

The private smirked, "ok, miss, what do you need?"

"It's Private McRae", she corrected fluidly, not bothering to cover up her accent anymore, "and I need a thirty caliber M1 Carbine, extra rounds if you can".

He gathered up what she needed and set the rounds and the rifle on the counter between them, "there ya go, Private." Alice reached forward and easily slipped the rifle around her shoulder, pocketing the extra rounds. "Good luck out there, girl".

Alice nodded her thanks to him and as she gripped the strap of her new rifle, she felt right at home. She didn't need luck.

With her M1 over her shoulder, she made her way hastily towards the sprawling shooting range. She could see the existing company getting their weapons ready; the targets placed a ways off from them. Her heart sped up at the sight – she couldn't wait to shoot.

A group of transfers stood at the edge of the range, their figures fidgeting. An armor of indifference clouded her features; she squared her shoulders and deliberately walked toward them, standing at the back of their group.

A few of them turned their heads when she walked up, their gazes stuck on her as they elbowed the man to next to them and whispered. She ignored them, instead she counted how many yards laid between the men and the targets, how the wind was blowing, if she would be able to use a scope or not…

"You here for rifle practice?" a voice questioned for her left. She turned to him and his eyes widened. He looked young – tanned skin, dark hair, and large eyes – he swallowed, trying again and covering up his surprise at her being female, "you gonna shot?"

Alice knew she should get used to this sort of greeting, after all, this was far from normal. "No, I'm just standing here with a rifle, sweating in this heat…for fun".

The kid smirked, "Can't knock a sense of humor, I'll tell you that. When did they let you in?"

"Couple days ago", she answered, her eyes raking over the company, searching for the men she met last night, "what's your name?" she turned back to her new friend.

"Private Alex Penkala. You?"

"Private Alice McRae".

"Nice to meet you, McRae", Penkala nodded.

"Likewise, Penkala", she responded.

OOOOOO

"Your head hurts because it's too far up your ass most of the time, Skip", Tab sniggered.

Bill tightened his boots, squinting into the sun, "I tried to cut you off, but you wouldn't have any of it".

Skip sighed, "hey, I might be hungover but at least I didn't get rebuffed last night by a skirt", he grinned miserably up at Don, who was cleaning his rifle. The company was set up on the range, ready for afternoon target practice.

"You would call that rebuffed?" Don scoffed, "I chatted her up. Plus you heard her, she had something to do today. She couldn't stay."

"Chatted her up my ass", George shook his head, "she told you her name and then left".

Don's shoulders dropped as he looked to Luz, "we talked more than that!" he insisted.

"Wait, you mean the part when you apologized for us embarrassing you? Does that even count?" Skip asked. Don leaned down and flicked Skip's ear, "ow, Jesus, that hurt".

"Whoever she was, I doubt we'll see her again", Bill hypothesized, "she did not look like a local girl".

"Who 'passes through' this town, anyway?" Tab offered, "she was like a mirage."

"Check it out fellas, new meat arrived today", George announced.

Don looked over to the small group of men approaching the rifle range. They wore fresh OD's and eager expressions, holding their M1's awkwardly, like hockey sticks. "Another group of transfers?"

"Fresh off the bus", Skip nodded.

Captain Sobel's figure loomed in the distance. He stalked over to them, stopped them and began talking in a low hum.

"Poor bastards have no idea what they're in for", George shook his head.

Sobel barked at the group and they began to jog towards the company – all but one. One figure stayed behind and Sobel pointed to a target set up all by itself roughly fifty yards away from the rest of them.

"Someone's already on the shit-list", Skip sniggered, "I wonder what that guy did to piss Sobel off".

"Fucking breathe the wrong the way and you'll piss that jackass off", Bill muttered.

"Easy Company!" Sobel called out, "we will not be using scopes for today's exercise. Put them away. Today we will be testing your ability to hit a long distance target without aid. Should any of you find yourselves in a position to take out an enemy, you should do so without waiting for a sniper." He eyed the group and glared over to the lonesome transfer who was also waiting for his order. Holding his arm up, he got out of the fire zone, then dramatically wove him arm down, signaling they were free to fire.

Don kept his breath even and trained his eyes on his target. Squinting at the red circle in the very center, he pulled the trigger on his M1, preparing for the kickback of the weapon in his hands.

Twenty or so shots later, the popping sound on the field came to a halt as Sobel yelled for them to cease-fire.

"How'd you do?" Bill asked him.

Don tried gauging his target, "no idea. I'm not getting any better at long distance without my scope".

"Ten bucks says Shifty from third platoon hit the mark every time", Skip wagered.

"Rifles down, Easy Company!" Sobel yelled. He crossed the field and walked along the line of targets, plucking one from its mount.

"Told you", Skip whispered, seeing Darrell 'Shifty' Powers smiling to himself and knowing it was his that Sobel grabbed.

The men watched as Sobel walked past each and every target, not picking up any other. He then jogged over to the transfer's target that he'd placed away, separated from the company. He stopped at it, stared, and then grabbed it forcefully.

"Huh, go figure", George muttered. Sobel stalked back to the men and looked over his shoulder.

"McRae! Over here!" Sobel yelled, "bring your weapon!"

Don looked up from the grass of the field, his gaze spotting the lone figure approaching the company. Why did that name sound familiar? The figure walked confidently towards the company with the rifle at their sides, like it was an extension of their body.

Don's heart stopped for a second as he made out the transfer's features and light hair. It was a _she_ …and he'd paid for her drink the night before. "Holy shit", he murmured, stupefied.

"You've got to be kidding me with this", Bill shook his head.

"Sink let a bird into the 101st?" Skip whistled beside them.

"Not just any bird…it's Don's girl from last night", Tab said.

Bill scoffed, "not a chance…is it?"

Don nodded, knowing her face, "it _is_ her".

"She cut her hair", Skip murmured.

George looked from her figure back to Don, "now we know why she couldn't stay and fraternize". Don's stomach clenched at the word… _fraternize_ …now he'd never get a chance to dance with her.

Alice reminded herself to breathe evenly as she walked across the field, in front of all the men, and stopped in front of Sobel. His eyes were hard on her, "this is Private Powers' target". He held up one target to her, the grouping on it was impressive; this Private had lots of practice with a firearm. Beside her, she could feel the men's stares and she was wondering why Sobel was making a show. "And _this_ ", he held up the other, "is yours". Alice looked at her target. It was immaculate apart from the tight grouping in the very center. She had hit it dead-on. It was curious – she had never associated a good shot with a punishment, but something in Sobel's glare told her that was about to change.

"Fucking hell, look at that", Tab whispered to the men beside him. A murmur broke out among the line of men at the target.

"Quiet!" Sobel barked, his voice echoing across the field. "Private McRae's shot is notable. So notable, I think we need to put it to the test." He turned to her, "I'm going to hang up a new target and I'm going to time you." He grabbed the M1 from around her shoulder, "I'm going to fieldstrip your weapon, you are going to reassemble it and fire all rounds at the target – and you will hit it every time. You will accomplish this task in under five minutes. If you do, the company will have the afternoon off." The murmurs began again, "If you fail, then everyone here fails with you and you will ALL run Currahee again today and twice tomorrow".

Alice clenched her jaw and quickly did the math in her head. She would be able to accomplish this, she was sure of it, but that didn't make this challenge an easy one. One tiny slip up and everything could go wrong, "Yes, sir".

"Challenge accepted then", Sobel smirked. Alice bit her tongue – like she had a choice in the matter. From his place along the line, Don's breathing sped up. He knew Sobel was a son of a bitch, but putting that kind of stress on a transfer who was already sticking out like a sore thumb was unbelievable. His heavy heart went out to Alice, who was standing rigidly, watching Sobel place a new target on the mount and jogging back. He glared at his C.O., who was obviously taking delight in this sick game. How was this fair? Sobel then began to fieldstrip her M1 and Don watched his hands like a hawk, making sure he didn't catch him pocket a piece to sabotage her. It took Sobel a good seven minutes to strip her rifle and Don shook his head. Sobel stood up and gestured to Alice, "alright Private", he looked at her, "men, gather round!"

"This a spectator sport?" Bill muttered darkly, as the company made a school circle behind Alice.

"I didn't mean to cause a stir", Shifty appeared at Don's side, his face worried.

"It's not you, Shift", Don shook his head.

Sobel pointed at Frank Perconte, "Perconte – keep time for McRae". Frank took a step toward Sobel and brought his wrist to his face. Alice stood still, her eyes studying the stripped rifle in front of her as she tried to block out the group watching her, Sobel glaring at her, and all superfluous noise. All pieces here miraculously were accounted for. Taking measured breathes, she noticed Sobel did her no favors – no pieces that went together were placed near one another. She focused and stared, and quickly plotted out the fastest approach as the group silently waited for the motion to begin. After twenty seconds, Frank nodded, "GO!" Sobel yelled at Alice.

Soundlessly lunging forward, Alice grabbed the first bits and began to reassemble her M1 flawlessly. Her heart pounding in her ears, her breathing shallow, her mind was flying a mile a minute as she expertly fitted together the rifle.

From the group, Don watched her work, his heart hammering. This girl was good. She knew this weapon intimately. It was evident as her fingers worked fast, flying over the pieces scattered on the grass, and negotiating them back into their places.

Alice swore she felt as if she was inside of an hourglass, feeling the sand slip through beneath her, counting down the time she had left. Reaching for the last piece – the clip of bullets – she realized: Sobel had emptied the clip. It was empty and therefore, useless. Sobel smirked from above her.

Thanking herself for her foresight, Alice suppressed a grin, and pulled out a full clip from her pocket. Flinging it into the air, she caught it right side up and inserted it into the rifle. Shifting to one knee, she cocked the weapon and breathed out, steadying her sight.

Time stood still.

BANG

BANG

BANG

Her muscle tense, it went on like that until she heard it:

 **PING!**

"That's five minutes, sir!" Perconte announced, breathless.

Her heart stilled for a second as she studied the target in the silence that followed, and gingerly placed her rifle on the cool grass. Her hand gripped the soft, damp earth as she sighed out quietly.

Stunned, the men were motionless behind her as Sobel sent a private to retrieve the target.

Alice stood and looked to Sobel, who was studying the target now. Don had the intense urge to run to her and hug her for her bravery.

"I have the right mind to fail you, McRae", Sobel spat and Alice clenched her fists, "you used an extra clip that wasn't part of the exercise. But seeing as you hit your mark, I'll allow it this time. Next time, I won't be so understanding." His face was stone on hers, "Easy Company, dismissed".

Wordlessly, the men retrieved their weapons, as Alice shouldered hers. She took off towards barracks before anyone could speak to her. Her heart was hammering angrily in her ears. Sobel had made a fixture of her with that 'exercise' – even though she succeeded, it was condemnation. With that display, he branded her; she's a freak.

"She sure took off fast", George remarked.

"No shit", Bill whistled, "can you believe her?"

"What the hell is Sink thinking letting a girl into the paratroopers?" Tab wondered aloud, "does Roosevelt have a daughter we don't know about?"

"She'll be a walking target", Skip nodded.

"Nothing but trouble", Frank agreed.

Bull Randleman approached their group, "did you see what she just did? Maybe she's worth the trouble".

Joe Liebgott walked by with Donny Hoobler, "looks like your nights just got longer, Malarkey", Lieb sniggered.

"I don't think she'll be looking for a date with any of us", Hoobler's insinuation was obvious.

"Yeah, good luck with that one, buddy", Joe agreed.

"Didn't know a girl could shoot like that", Shifty said quietly.

Don had had enough, "that girl's shooting just got us an afternoon off", he defended, his eyes finding her figure in the distance.

Breathing heatedly as she walked, Alice shook her head. She just wanted to help her country, help the war effort. She always kept up with the news and she knew things were only getting worse – and she wanted to help in a productive way. Not by smiling and pouring drinks, giving dances to soldiers - but by her God-given talent of shooting. She should have known better though. Nothing was ever easy for her; she could never hope to blend in.

"McRae", a voice caught up to her, breathless, "that was something back there." Penkala studied her focused expression as they walked, "where'd you learn to shoot like that?"

It hadn't been the first time someone asked that, and Alice knew it sure as hell wouldn't be the last, "my father."

She didn't elaborate further as they both walked past the barracks of the other companies. By now, the entire camp had heard of her arrival with the rest of the transfers and men were sticking their heads out of windows and crowding the doorways as she walked by. Whistles and masculine laughter followed her pathway to her barracks. Loyal as ever, Penkala kept pace with her the entire time, his posture tensed.

"Hey baby!" a large blond crooned at her as they walked by.

"Fuck off!" Alex spat back.

"What – you already got a claim on her?" the man hollered back.

"Penk, just leave it", Alice whispered, exhausted. Alex glared at the man defiantly before turning around and walking with Alice once again. He glanced over at her, worried. She could see his face, his concerned expression. Adjusting her posture, she nodded slightly and murmured softly to him, "thank you".

 **It would be lovely to hear what you think/what your perceptions are so far. More to come in the works.**

 **xoxoxo**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Band of Brothers' – the miniseries or the book – nor do I intend ANY disrespect to the real men of Easy Company. All that is mine is Alice McRae and a deep, profound respect for the real heroes.**

Her legs felt like they weighed one hundred pounds each as she climbed the stairs to Easy's barracks, with Penk following closely behind her. The barracks were long and narrow, with ocher colored wood floors. Narrow beds lined the walls like the candies in a Pez dispenser.

"It's alphabetical", Penk said, his eyes jumping around the room, "the bed assignments."

Alice nodded, seeing her trunk atop a bed, "this is me". She shrugged her pack from her shoulders and pulled her trunk off the bed and positioned it in front of her bunk, like everyone else's trunks.

Alex stopped four beds down from her, "we're not too far away from one another, new buddy".

Alice smirked to herself as she opened her trunk and began to organize her things. She was grateful she'd managed to make a 'friend' who didn't seem bothered by her gender or her ability to shoot. Alex seemed to be a good kid; after all, he'd gotten a few troopers off her back as they walked to barracks.

The sound of boots echoed off the walls, and the rest of the company made their way into the building. Alice reminded herself to breathe. She could hold her own on a firing range, while shooting a gun…but face-to-face with the men? Frankly, it bothered her that she was outnumbered and without a single clue as to how to behave.

If there was one thing she didn't tolerate well, it was not feeling in control of a situation – or worse – not being in control of her emotions. She didn't like that she was nervous to see the men she met last night. Instantly, she regretted saying 'hello' to them at all. Had she offended them today by the surprise of her showing up?

She kept herself busy by putting her things away as men passed by her bunk. Thankfully, most ignored her, choosing instead to look from a distance and discreetly talk to their neighbor. Alice knew what she had gotten herself into – the staring and gossip were to be expected. Her knowledge of abuse had put her on edge, however; she was just _waiting_ to get harassed, to get called out.

There was no place like an Army Camp, which brewed testosterone in boatloads, to accelerate any sort of exploitation. Alice was not naïve, and she was not an idiot – she knew how to world worked, and she knew she wasn't necessarily welcome here. Thing was, it wasn't the men's decision to make – the only way she would be kicked out of Toccoa was if she couldn't hack it…and she had no intention of failing.

"It's one thing to let a girl into the 101st…and it's another that she can actually shoot…but what's with the hair cut?" a short trooper leered at her. His bunk was down the line from hers, and he stood in the walkway of the room with his hands on his hips.

And, there it was.

Steadying herself, Alice confidently turned toward the short trooper who spoke at her.

Alice saw Penk rise at the corner of her eye but she beat him to it. No one would be putting themselves in the line of fire for her. She would stand up for herself now…damn the consequences. "What of it?" she asked, her pointed question directed at Cobb, her hands on her hips as well, mirroring his stance. She wasn't afraid to go toe to toe with anyone – even if it meant sporting a black eye for a few days.

"Cobb, what the hell are you doing?" Bill asked, annoyed. Beside him, Don worriedly studied Alice – she had turned around, her posture was perfect, and she stared down Cobb with a fire in her eyes. She looked like she was ready for a fight. Don intensely didn't like that she was a target for this sort of ignorance, and a pit formed in his stomach – with the idiots around camp, this was probably going to happen a lot.

Don stepped forward, ready to get involved and stop this, but Skip held his arm, "hold on, I think she's got this covered." He sniggered under his breath, "Jesus, it's like a powder-keg in here". Don glanced around the room; most of the men were ready to pounce should Cobb step over the line.

Cobb shrugged, the edge he had begun with softening with the glares of the other men, "I just don't like it".

"You don't have to like it…you can go fuck yourself", Alice suggested evenly.

The room of men began to murmur in appreciative tones and Cobb narrowed his eyes, "I just don't like women with short hair", he defended.

Alice was undeterred, "well _I_ don't like puny men…and yet, here you are". With that, she turned her back and began to organize her things in her footlocker, signaling an end to this confrontation. Her heart was pounding and she could feel her skin was flushed with anger and embarrassment from being forced into a conflict.

Cobb took a breath to speak again and Tab interrupted him with a slap on his back, "you should stop while you're behind, pal".

"She's not messing around", Bill noted admirably under his breath as he walked to his bed.

Don was enthralled. What kind of woman was this? He had never met a girl like this. Skip grinned, "let's go introduce ourselves formally". They walked towards her together and another transfer immediately went over to Alice. Skip held his hands up, "whoa there, we come in peace". He thrust out his hand, "Warren Muck, people call me Skip".

Penk took his hand, "Alex Penkala", he nodded.

Skip grinned and looked at Alice, addressing her, "Fire", he pointed at her, then looked to Don, "meet Gasoline". Alice must have looked confused because Skip laughed, "He was ready to explode when Cobb opened his stupid mouth".

"Everybody was", Don added.

"Yeah, yeah", Skip scoffed.

"It's good to see you again", Don offered her his hand, "so _this_ was your big day you talked about last night".

"You've met?" Penk asked, as Alice shook Don's hand diplomatically. She would be lying if she told herself she wasn't on edge now…it would be best if she didn't speak too much – less ammunition for them to use against her later.

"Last night we had the pleasure to meeting at the local watering hole…we had a nice little chat over apple juice", Skip informed him, winking at Alice, "and we didn't think that we'd meet again this soon".

"Apple juice", Penk questioned.

"You had to be there", Don filled in quickly. Before he could ask Alice where she was from, Bill sauntered up and beat him to it –

"So what's your story, McRae?" his tone was gruff, slightly accusatory and Don bristled at his brash manner.

Alice knew a loaded question when she heard one. She wasn't about to lay out her history for them – she didn't have to defend her choices anymore. "It's simple enough…", she began.

Bill cut her off, "I don't think it is".

"You gonna get in her face too?" Don asked in a low tone, "like that hasn't happened enough today?"

"You guys usually up in each other's business all the time like this?" Penk asked, trying to deflect the attention on Alice, who had kicked her footlocker closed.

"When you've signed up to jump outta planes you need to make sure the guy next to you has got his head on straight", Bill defended.

Alice turned around, "I know what you're thinking".

"At least one of us does", Skip joked.

"Is that right?" Bill said.

She nodded, "oh yeah…it's got to be one of two things. Either I've got connections high up in the brass who've let me tag along with you this summer – or – I'm just a skirt who was sent here to test you".

"Well, which one is it?" Bill challenged.

"Jesus Christ, Bill", Don hissed.

"It's neither", she said composedly, ignoring Don's worried stare, "I am just _that damn good_ of a shot to have gotten here on merit alone", she kept her eyes on Bill, daring him to rattle her further, "or did you _not_ see what I did on the range today?"

Don bit his tongue. This girl did not need his help defending herself. She was practiced. She also had quite the front that she was putting up. How much had she been through to get here?

"Alright…fair point", Bill nodded, clenching his jaw.

"You from Boston?" Skip asked.

Alice took a breath and looked out the door, "yes, I am". She was growing tired of the interrogation and wanted to end it, so she looked right at Bill, "is _that_ a problem with you, South Philly?" Before he could say anything, she moved forward, "excuse me", she said softly as she walked straight out of the door, feeling multiple pairs of eyes on her.

The noise picked up once she crossed the threshold and Bill turned to Don, "the fuck is your problem?"

"Are you serious?" Don countered.

"I'm trying to figure out what this outfit is thinking sending a woman to war, I think we deserve to know that", Bill shrugged.

"The Army doesn't tell us jack, why would they start now?" Tab said.

"You saw her shoot, she's good", Penk offered.

"That aside, I have a hard time thinking Sobel is ok with this", Don admitted.

Bill nodded, "exactly. How hard do you think it will be to watch her get beat up by all of this? How many men have we seen get kicked out of this place?" He pointed out the door; "it's fucking day _one_ for her and Sobel's ready to pop". He walked closer to Don, "do you think it's gonna get any easier to watch when it's bullets flying by and _not_ Sobel's threats?"

Alice didn't know where she was walking. The lead ball in the bottom of her stomach was only growing larger with her indignation. Silently, she tried to come to terms that this was how life was going to be until the men got used to her presence. She would have to endure.

She swallowed the naïve regret that stabbed at her for her use of bad language. _Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it_ – she repeated silently, willing her regret away. What's done is done and there was no going back. Frustrated, she kicked a rock with her shiny boot and sent it flying across the dirt. She was constantly having an internal war over propriety, and it was about time she buried it.

"McRae", a voice called out to her. She turned; heart heavy, and spotted Malarkey jogging towards her. Sighing internally, she stopped walking, and he caught up with her. The sun had just set behind Currahee and in its wake everything was cast in the blue glow of twilight. He stopped within a few feet of her, unsure of what to say. "You ok?" he offered. There were a dozen ways to say 'no' to that, but Alice chose to remain silent and hold her tongue. She didn't wish to come across as harsh to the men. Instead, she studied his face – he had freckles from the sun exposure that dotted across his nose and cheeks, his hair was tousled from the warm breeze. Her gut told her that she could trust him…but there was no way she was going to show a chink in her armor. Not yet, anyway. "Listen, I, uh…"

Alice gently interrupted him, "you don't have to apologize".

"You deserve one after all that", he frowned, watching her bite her lip repeatedly.

"I'm sorry you bought me a drink last night – I shouldn't have done that, I shouldn't have gone to the bar", she said, looking away from his gaze.

Don shook his head, "no, you don't need to do that". Feeling responsible, and wanting to see her smile, he joked, "even if you had told us, I don't think we would have believed you anyways". No dice, she simply looked back at him, her eyes large and dark.

"I did my homework – I know what I'm getting myself into here", she began gently, "and based off my first day, this crap is gonna be a regular thing". She gestured between them, "and _this_ isn't going to happen every time one of your boys shoots his mouth off".

Don nodded, "I get it…it's just…they aren't bad guys…"

"If you hitch your trailer to me and come running to my rescue every time, they're only going to target you too", she affirmed, then shrugged, "I'm a sniper, I work better alone anyways." He began to protest, but she shook her head and shoved her hands in her pockets, "just leave it". With that, she turned around and kept walking.

Don didn't want her to just walk away. He didn't even know where she could possibly be headed, so he said the first thing that came into his mind, "why did you fake an accent last night?" Mission accomplished; Alice stopped walking. "Or are you faking right now?"

Her figure was darkening along with the sky as she turned around after a moment, "I'm not faking right now". Her voice was soft, but clear.

Don walked up to her slowly, "so why fake last night?"

Alice kept her hands in her pockets; her jaw ached from her clenching it as she searched for an answer. "Force of habit", she acquiesced.

"Habit, huh?" Don echoed. He had a million questions, but he didn't want to lay into her.

"Born in Boston", she began, "I moved to Los Angeles when I was twelve…I was taught to drop it".

"Doesn't sound like it took", he prodded.

"I was taught to cover it up", she amended. Before he ask another, she took a turn, "where are you from?"

"Astoria, Oregon", he answered. "People in Los Angeles don't like accents?"

Giving a beat, she ignored his question, "when did you volunteer?"

"I didn't. Well, I tried. Tried enlisting in the Marines but I didn't get in, then I tried the Air Corps but didn't get in. I got drafted to the Army and volunteered a month ago." He was willing to tell her anything she wanted to hear. He wanted to be open with her, and maybe in turn, she would drop the front she had so the men could get to know her. Her eyes studied him as he looked at her. She looked like a doll with her hair so short. Don liked the look; he didn't know what Cobb was talking about. "When did you volunteer?"

"Went to basic as a volunteer a few months back. They saw me shoot and I got into the Paratroopers about a month ago."

"A month ago? Why weren't you training with us back then?" he asked.

"Had to prove myself to the brass", she informed, "once I did, they moved me here….so…I've been flying solo for a while now, I'm not really used to questions…or roommates".

Don knew that wasn't the whole story, but he knew when to let things go…for now, "where did you learn to shoot like that?"

"My father", she answered.

"Is he back in in California?" Don asked.

Alice shook her head once, "no. He's in Boston…I think", she added under her breath.

"You think?" Don cocked his head to the side.

Alice had gotten caught. "Yeah, he's in back in Boston." She left it at that as she kicked a rock nearby her boot. Truth was, she didn't know if her father was in Boston or not. Her mother had moved them to Los Angeles suddenly and told her she wasn't going to be seeing her father again for a long time. That was years ago. She hadn't spoken to him since the day before they left for the West Coast…he never even sent a letter for Christmas. "He taught me everything I know about firearms and shooting. I've been doing it for a while."

"I believe that. You're a hell of a shot", Don said honestly.

"Thank you", she murmured. She looked around them. They were at the edge of the camp; the only lights were coming from the small square windows from barracks. She could faintly hear a jeep's engine and masculine laughter.

"You ready to go back? It's getting late", Don offered, his eyes never leaving hers. Alice was struck by his persistence and his patience. He didn't have to come after her, or pretend to care by asking questions about her. In the dark, his expression was calm while he waited. "You can stay, if you want, you don't have to…"

"I'll go back with you", she gently interrupted him.

Wordlessly, they walked back to their barracks. The steady beat of their boots on the grass and dirt punctuated the silence. Alice wondered how much she as going have to give of herself, emotionally. She had been prepared to surrender herself physically – but this emotional divulgence was intimidating.

As a woman alone here, she wasn't sure how to behave. What did they expect of her? What did they want to hear? Back in Los Angeles, when she was at the swanky parties, she'd basically had a script to go by. Men didn't want to hear about her interest in the war and politics; they didn't care that she loved to read and write; they would think it was masculine if she said she knew extensively about guns and knew how to shoot them. All in all, she had a rulebook and the bottom line was stand there, be pretty and agreeable and witty.

Now that she was out of that game and on her own, she had no idea what men wanted from her. All she could be was herself…and she didn't know if that was enough.

 **THANK YOU to everyone who read, reviewed, and followed after the last chapter. Let me know what you think so far! There's MUCH to come!**

 **xoxoxoxoxo**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Band of Brothers' – the miniseries or the book – nor do I intend ANY disrespect to the real men of Easy Company. All that is mine is Alice McRae and a deep, profound respect for the real heroes.**

 **A big THANK YOU to everyone who has read, reviewed, or followed my story. I really appreciate it xoxo**

Pain and soreness – that had become her life. Up and down Currahee, back and forth through the training course, physical drills and tests…just a day in the life of an American Paratrooper.

In the few weeks she had been 'introduced' to her company, Alice had been able to keep her distance from the men in her company. Everyone was exhausted, everyone was in pain – and she had been using that to her advantage. Everyone was too far-gone to even think about interrogating her at the moment. Sobel actually had a hand in keeping her away from the men – every time they were ordered to accomplish a drill, he had a way of making sure she was working alone. Not that she minded…she had gotten them out of a few drills due to her shooting ability. Sobel's creativity was not lacking for challenges when it came to Alice.

Where her company left her alone on the field and on their own time, members of other companies had adopted the annoying, and occasionally nasty, habit of cat calling her whenever she was spotted. Whistles and hoots were ignored on her part, and they gradually evolved into pick-up lines and phrases. Alice kept her chin up and contained her sharp tongue. What she found interesting was the Easy Company men _never_ did such things…and they always barked a mean comeback when they overheard something. Alice knew they didn't have to do that, but they did nonetheless.

While most of her men kept their distance from her, Alex Penkala had managed to become a friend. He was quickly taken under the wing of Skip Muck and was shown the ropes. Penk, thankfully, fed Alice what tricks of the trade he had learned when it came to surviving Toccoa.

It wasn't that Alice wasn't interested in knowing these men…quite the opposite actually. She knew herself; she was an introvert and for now, she preferred to observe. Alice was a writer – and like any other writer would tell you, observing human behavior is one of the most enthralling pastimes. From her bunk, she would pull her brown leather journal onto her lap and discreetly write down everything she could about the men in her company. They were such characters.

While she had a good opinion of most of them, she didn't dare begin to imagine what they thought of her – Sobel had a way of finding out who was close to who…and after Don had gone after her that first night, he got put through the ringer the next day. Alice didn't know how Sobel had found anything out, but she had made a point to not get anyone else in trouble.

Alex was a saint, her personal savior and silent buddy. Alice desperately didn't want him to be ostracized because of interacting with her, so she kept her distance from him when out in camp. Thankfully, he understood. In lieu of talking, they had gotten into the habit of stealing one another's things and hiding them. Just little things to irritate the other; a clever way of saying 'hello' – the day before, Alice's pen had gone missing. At first, she was in a tizzy, cursing herself for misplacing it…then it hit her: Penkala. She walked right over to his bunk, and sure enough – there it was, under his pillow.

Alex had miraculously understood why Alice was protecting herself and him. After all, the men willingly ignored her for the most part themselves. Skip had told him that it was easier to ignore the transfers because they don't last too long – and all of the men reckoned that McRae would not be lasting long, even through Alex's protestations that she was the real deal.

Muck had become Penk's ever-constant shadow – the two of them were always together. Alice liked Skip. He was good-natured and fair. He treated everyone with respect. The first night Alice had to strip off her OD's to get into bed, Skip softly suggested that she use the space behind the metal lockers to conceal herself. He had said it as he passed by…surely he had seen the anxiety on her face as she contemplated ripping her shirt off in front of a room full of sweaty, boisterous men who were all pretending not to notice her plight. He was perceptive – and Alice respected that.

Donald Malarkey. Alice was at a loss when it came to him. Initially, that first night at the bar, she had found him attractive. She still did – but it was more complicated now. There was no way she could ever date him…not after making the choice to stick with the paratroopers. A small ball of regret had made a home in her stomach, and whenever her eyes met Don's, it hurt, badly. The writer in her romanticized what they could have had if they had met under different circumstances. Hell, she even romanticized about what would happen should she choose to ignore the 'rules'…she was only human, and he was handsome. She didn't know whether she fantasized because she truly liked him, or because he was the only man around who didn't leer at her.

Another part of her felt incredibly guilty for getting him into trouble with Sobel the day after they met. She wanted to know more about him, and about many of the other men…but she would be damned if her questions got them another go up Currahee. She'd rather feel alone than condemn them to more drills.

Don had watched Alice from afar. He wasn't given any other choice in the matter. She wasn't a mute, she responded quickly and intelligently to questions and the like, she would laugh at a joke told in the barracks, but she didn't divulge much of her background. The rest of the men in Easy were curious about her…the woman who had been able to keep up with the paratroopers and could shoot the wings off of a fly. A few said she looked familiar to them. After being pressed for answers, Don had told them what he knew – she was from Boston and had moved to California. That was all he knew, and it bothered him that he desperately wanted to know more.

Their training had ramped-up and Sobel was not going easy on them. Alice had been witness to multiple men being escorted out of Camp Toccoa when they failed a test or couldn't keep up. The brass had deemed these men as unable to perform, and it had become an end-of-the-week ritual to see who was leaving Georgia behind.

Alice was surprised with her ability to compete with the men. It wasn't like she was out of shape, but she was certainly hitting walls during training. Even more surprising, was that she was breaking through them with strength she didn't know she had. She was even growing a bit bolder in her actions, no longer silently cringing at herself or comparing to who she once was. Internally, she knew she had her father to thank for that. As a kid, he would take her camping – for weeklong trips into the mountains. They would hike all day and only eat what they caught.

After her mother moved them to Los Angeles, Alice made sure to walk whenever she could - and escape to the nearby hills for hikes and solitude. What her mother didn't know, was that she also had a cache of guns her father had gifted her. She had found a small gun club outside of Los Angeles County – and that's where she kept up her shooting and target practice.

Thankfully, no one yet had seemed to figure out who exactly she was. Before she hit the showers that evening, however, she had a mission to accomplish to keep her old career under wraps.

Hoobler had a deck of cards that she knew all too well. It was a limited edition pin-up deck…and her figure was on one of those cards – ironically, the Queen of Spades. She knew the photo. It had been one of her favorites. She was in a black dress with thin straps that cut off under her knee, black heels; she was standing, looking coyly over her right shoulder, sideways at the camera. She got the keep the dress…until her then-fiancé Robert threw it away for 'drawing too many looks'. It was about a year ago, she had posed for the picture and she spotted the men playing with the deck just the day before. She intended to swap out her card for a generic one of the same value – if one of them recognized her, she'd be found out and she wanted to avoid that…she feared it would be humiliating.

Sobel had prophesized that that would happen, and if she had the means, she would prolong it for as long as she could. The men already treated her like an alien…there was no reason to make things more difficult. And she could surmise that the discovery that Private McRae was a full-fledged pin-up model from Hollywood would make quite the splash…and all she wanted to do was shoot her rifle.

Fingering the rough olive colored towel on her bed, she looked over to Hoobler's bunk – the cards were out and proudly sitting on his pillow. She had the regular Queen of Spades card in her palm as she glanced over the barracks. It had been raining all day today and the men had cabin fever so thankfully, most of them were out at the chow hall, leaving only a handful of men indoors, listening to music and writing letters.

Figuring she'd draw more attention to herself by acting strange or covert, Alice simply walked over to Hoobler's pillow, and ruffled through the deck. She spotted her card and slipped it out, replaced it with the generic one, and walked back to her bunk. Quickly, she threw her card into her trunk, grabbed her towel, and turned towards the door and walked out in the direction of the showers. Mission accomplished.

Don was making his way back to barracks for the evening, Skip, Penk, and a few others in tow. The steady drizzle that had begun that morning had turned into a full on downpour and men who were caught outside were running for cover.

"Look at this come down", Frank Perconte observed.

"Not that it helps, it's hot as shit out here", Bill lamented, Toye laughing at his irritation.

"Thank god we're not on that mountain right now", Tab groaned.

"We've got McRae to thank for that", Don reminded him. Earlier that day, Alice had once again shot a target for Sobel that relieved the company of a rain-soaked afternoon run on Currahee.

"Regular shootin' Ace, we've got on our hands, huh Penk?" Skip noted.

"Always fishing, Skip", Alex sighed, shaking his head.

"I'm not a quitter", Skip shrugged.

"I know as much as you do, pal", Alex defended, "she's nice and I'm not about to pry just because you're nosy".

Skip scoffed, "I'm not nosy – I'm curious. She's managed to get us out of a few afternoon double-time runs with that shot of hers."

"You're not the only one who wants to know what her story is", Bill said, kicking his shoes on the bottom step, trying to get the mud off the soles.

"I think Don here owns the keys to that castle", Toye rasped.

"I told you what I know", he started, "…and I shouldn't have told you anything."

"Why the hell not?" Toye questioned.

"Because it's about trust", Don began, "how would you feel if you were the only guy in a company full of women?"

"I'd be a fuckin' kid in a goddamned candy store", Bill reasoned easily.

Skip sniggered beside Penk as Don rolled his eyes, "you know what I mean".

"No, I don't think we do", Toye shook his head, "we're gonna be fighting next to one another one of these days and I don't even know why she's here".

"I think Don has a point about trust", Penk said.

"Yeah, yeah, Kumbaya and all that shit", Bill drawled.

Don made his way to his bunk, right beside Alice's. He noticed it's emptiness and reminded himself that she was probably at the showers; her shower time was at night – away from the men.

Alice may not have told him much about herself, but he was perceptive enough to learn her habits. She smoothed her hair behind her ears when she was thinking – not that her hair was long enough to tuck behind her ears in the first place…but the habit was there nonetheless. She took immaculate care of her M1. Don swore she had another, smaller gun – one that he'd seen her clean and put away. Whenever music was playing, she tapped her feet along to the beat…Don learned that she consistently did this to any Benny Goodman or Tommy Dorsey song that came on. She also had a small bottle of perfume in her trunk, mixed in with her personal effects. After a bad day, she had a practice of dabbing a tiny bit onto the inside of her wrist before bed. The faint fragrance reminded Don of a morning after rain – wet leaves and sap. It was different…it suited her.

She had a worn leather journal that she was constantly scribbling in. He'd caught her smiling to herself as she wrote one night, after Bill had told a particularly raunchy joke. He wondered what the hell she wrote in that thing… he wondered if there was anything about him in there.

He smirked to himself – her first night in the barracks, she had tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. Don had to admit that there were some pretty loud snores coming from Bill that night. Alice had sat up, retrieved a sock from her pack, rolled it up and threw it at Bill's face. Don stifled a laugh when the sock hit it's mark and Bill coughed, waking up.

Just because Alice didn't speak about herself, didn't mean that Don didn't see it.

"Who the hell went through my card deck?" Hoob whined aloud from across the room.

"What happened?" Lieb asked.

Hoobler held his card deck up, "my pin-up deck…the damn Queen of Spades is missing".

"Maybe she walked right off the card and she's hiding somewhere under one of our beds", Skip smirked, his mouth full of an orange that he stole from the canteen.

"Like Pinocchio", Penk giggled.

"If we were only so lucky", Toye groaned.

Don frowned from his bunk as he watched Hoob look frantically under his bed…that had been Don's favorite card.

Alice had just finished shaving her legs when the water went cold. Usually she timed it just right, but this evening, the warm water ran out earlier than normal.

THUNK

Suddenly, the lights in the showers went out. The only light was the bluish tint that came in from the skinny windows that lined the ceiling.

"Shit", she breathed, her teeth chattering as she tried to wash off the soap before her fingers went numb.

BANG

The metal sound of the double front doors echoed along the tile of the cavernous shower room. Someone had to be in here with her.

Alice knew better than to shout.

She had wondered if this would happen…the only woman in an Army camp showering alone? It was only a matter of time before someone tried to screw with her, before the catcalls and words weren't enough. Alice decided to play possum until she could grab her clothes and make a run for it, back to barracks.

Breathing evenly, she shut off the water and stood with her back to the tile, listening. There was a damn good reason she had taken to showering in her underwear and bra. Even though they didn't leave much to imagination when wet, she knew she was better safe than sorry should her shower get interrupted like it was now.

The room was still apart from the drips of water falling off her body. It was darkening outside and the rain was pounding the roof, the muffled sound dampened the silence.

Alice clenched her jaw against a shiver as she heard a shuffle to her right. Between her and tile wall, she heard boots.

"You better run while you can, missy", a male voice spoke suddenly.

From the echoing on the tile, she couldn't pinpoint where the voice was coming from…and with the laughter from another voice that followed, she didn't want to stick around to find out.

She ducked around the corner to grab her clothes, only to find an empty space with nothing but her towel on the ground. It had been soaked through and stepped on, boot prints marked all over the fabric.

Masculine laughter again echoed in the room.

"I can see your privates, private", the same voice hollered.

"We're coming for you, girl", another taunted.

Feeling threatened now, Alice grabbed the towel and ran to the doors…which were being held closed by a metal rod of some kind, wedged into the handles. She yanked the rod from the doors and pushed them open, throwing the rod aside.

"She's got the doors open", the second one warned as the rod clanged onto the tile floor.

She heard boots splash behind her and she turned around as she ran out, catching sight of two men running towards her. She swore she recognized one of them from Fox Company – that blond who yelled at her on her first day.

Anxiety burst through her skin as she ran out into the open camp. Realizing how vulnerable she was and that they were tailing her, she sprinted to her barracks, with the pouring rain hitting her skin as she gripped her sopping towel. The sun had set and it was hard to see, the lamps were dim and foggy in the failing rain that clouded her vision.

Breathing hard through her fear of actually being attacked, she registered in the back of her mind that she was in nothing but her skivvies. She thanked god that with the downpour, the camp was clear, all of the men were indoors somewhere – plus with the cover of twilight, she wasn't easily spotted, but this emboldened the men who were chasing her - as they only sped up. In her bare feet, Alice had trouble gripping the soft, wet dirt and she stumbled once but didn't fall.

She made it to Easy's barracks as she heard the boots stamping closely behind her. Throwing the towel around her frame, she pulled the front door open and slammed it shut, keeping one hand tight around the handle and the other tight around her towel.

After a full second, she heard the music in the room through her breathing. Squeezing her eyes shut in humiliation, she kept her back to the room, wondering how many of her company were here witnessing this.

"Are you alright?" Don's soft and intensely concerned voice was behind her. Alice rested her head against the door, not wanting to cause a stir. Inside, she burned, realizing how close she might have come to being hurt. A large warm blanket was draped on her shoulders and she flinched initially, but hugged it to her frame when she heard Don's soothing voice once again, "Alice?"

She ceased her trembling lip and turned to face him, "I'm fine", she breathed. Inside, the group of men present had remained silent until they heard she was all right; once she spoke, all of them had questions.

"Like hell you are", Don's voice had dropped dangerously as he studied her worriedly then narrowed his eyes at the closed door.

"What the hell happened?" Bill called out.

"Was someone following you?" Lieb asked angrily, standing beside Toye and Tab.

"Alice, what happened to you?" Alex asked, concerned, with Skip equally alarmed next to him.

"Where's your stuff?" Bull asked protectively, Johnny Martin and Carwood Lipton exchanged darkened looks nearby.

Alice didn't have an answer for Bull's question that would make anyone lay off of her. This was the first time she had been the sole focus of attention in Easy, and the intense stares of the men were slightly overwhelming. "Someone took my stuff", she said truthfully.

Bill shook his head, "someone may have taken your stuff, but why did you run here?"

"You're out of breath", Skip said, "…and you don't even get out of breath when running Currahee".

They caught her there. Taking a breath and steadying herself, she hugged Don's blanket to her tighter and remained silent. She didn't know what to say. Everything she could relay to them ended with a manhunt…and she intended on retaliating alone. She would _not_ cause a problem for these men.

"Alice, for fuck's sake", Toye started.

"Bullying her for answers isn't gonna help, look at her for Christ sake", Lieb spoke at Bill.

"I'm fine", Alice lied.

"Bullshit", Johnny called her out.

Alice nodded to Penk, who had retrieved her OD's for her. "Someone shut off the lights, took my stuff…said some things to me. I got the doors open and I ran for it."

"Who was it?" Don asked softly, immediately, his eyes penetrating on hers, his hands hovering in the air between them.

"They locked the doors?" Lip asked darkly. Alice quickly stepped behind the lockers to change into her OD's to get out of her skivvies while in front of her company.

"Who was he?" Bull asked evenly.

Don exchanged a heated look with Bill, who was equally furious, "Alice?" Alice emerged from the alcove, changed. She walked to her bunk and pulled her blanket from the frame, folded it and set it on Don's bed. Don frowned, "no, you're not doing that – keep your blanket."

"I got yours wet, take mine", she said evenly, ignoring Don's 'no' for an answer. She turned to Bull, "I don't know who he was, I didn't see him. I just ran."

Don looked down to her discarded towel, there were boot marks clearly all over it. She was scared and doing a good job of covering it up. He looked pointedly at Alice as he put her blanket on her bed and took his back. By the hard look in her eye, he knew she wasn't going to talk more about it, and his stomach churned thinking of a man chasing her, threatening her. "Is that how it's gonna be?" he pleaded gently.

Alice took a breath after pulling out her journal. The room was silent apart from the music floating through the barracks. She looked up at Don, "I'm sorry."

With that, the men looked at one another before resuming their evening rituals. Don stared at Alice a moment longer before draping his blanket over his bunk. She kept her eyes down onto her journal, Penk and Skip looked to Don worriedly.

Later, after the music had been turned off and the lights extinguished, Don rolled over to face Alice's figure in the bunk next to him. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself and she was awake…Don could tell by her breathing. It bothered him that she felt that she was alone in this. He had a feeling that she saw the man or men that had threatened her earlier. He didn't know how to help her…but he would refuse to keep his distance if she was in danger. She was a member of their company and proved herself – why was there a distance in the first place?

"Thank you for your blanket", she whispered into the space between their beds.

"Alice…you know you can tell me anything", he murmured softly to her.

A minute went by before she responded in a quiet voice, "I know". In the silence that followed, her thoughts drifted to the pair of brass knuckles she had hidden away in her nylons. She would need to retrieve them in the morning.

OOOOOO

The following day was routine. The rain had cleared away the muck in the air and the day was crisp, clean, and beautiful. Nearing mid-September, the weather was beginning to be favorable. It was a good thing too; Sobel had Easy donning OD's, helmets, packs, and weapons for the daily runs up Currahee.

That afternoon, before chow, the men were in barracks, cleaning up their bunks and personal items when five staff orderlies from regiment came barging in through the front doors.

"What the hell is this?" Lieb groaned as Don and Penk looked at one another in confusion. The men around the room began to protest as the staffers began opening trunks and lockers.

The oldest one, who was obviously in charge, addressed them all, "this is an inspection! Stand beside your bunks now! Any contraband will be thrown out!"

Alice looked on calmly as the orderlies began to make a mess of their belongings. The rest of the men were rolling their eyes at one another, some trying to keep the staffers from disrupting piles of comic books and letters.

After five full minutes of searching, the staffers were finished and had found nothing. They were dismissed and the men began the annoying task of reorganization.

"What the hell was that?" Johnny asked to no one in particular.

"That's never happened before", Lieb said.

"What do you mean, we've been checked before for contraband", Lip argued.

"Yeah, but not by regiment staff, Lip", Tab reasoned, "this was different".

"You chose a hell of a time to show up for mail-call, Vest" George drawled to Private Vest, who had walked into the room, his face flushed.

"This ain't a mail-call", Vest started, "staffers were here from regiment, right?"

"No, Vest, we just decided to have a pillow-fight and it got out of hand", Skip said sarcastically.

"What do ya know?" Bill asked.

"Guy from F-Company was found behind the armory earlier…his nose was broken and he won't say who did him", Vest informed the group proudly.

"Are you shittin' me?" Toye frowned.

"Which guy?" Hoob wondered aloud.

"Please tell me it was that stupid one that always hogs the dart board at the bar", George said.

"I don't know who he was…but he isn't talking", Vest said with his eyebrows raised as he left.

Don turned and looked knowingly at Alice, silently putting the pieces together for himself. She stood there confidently, quietly, as she looked back at him. "That's a real shame", she muttered only for him to hear.

"Didn't know who he was, huh?" he muttered back.

"It was my score to settle, not anyone else's", she justified.

"What if it happens again?" he countered.

She flashed her brass knuckles at Don, "then I'll let you hit the next one". He smiled conspiratorially at her.

 **Let me know what you think! More to come!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Band of Brothers' – the miniseries or the book – nor do I intend ANY disrespect to the real men of Easy Company. All that is mine is Alice McRae and a deep, profound respect for the real heroes.**

 **A big THANK YOU to everyone who has read, reviewed, or followed my story. I really appreciate it xoxo**

She liked to watch him tell stories. His entire face would light up with a rainbow of expressions as Skip and Penk listened intently beside her. Inevitably after Skip would crack a joke, she would look for the way Don would crinkle his nose and laugh – laugh like no one was watching.

After the stunt from the two lowlifes in Fox Company, her men made sure she was absolutely taken into the fold. She always had a buddy to walk her to chow – typically a rotation between Don, Penk, Skip, Bill, and Toye. She always found someone running right beside her up Currahee, anytime they completed drills, or even at lectures on camp.

She had to admit, it wasn't unpleasant. The only intolerable thing was the men's interest in her past – she could only brush off the questions for so long before she had to outright lie…and she did not want to do that. The only man who didn't prod was Don, and that was a good thing – he was the most constant companion by her side. There were moments where she thought about telling him about her family, about her old 'job', about her ex-fiancé that she left the day before she signed up for basic. But she thought better of it…Alice didn't want to scare him away with her drama.

Sometimes her eyes would wander to him across a room, or right beside her, and she would wonder _why._ Why did he have such patience? The rest of the company must have thought her a basket case. After all, she never talked about home – an incredibly popular topic amongst the men. Admittedly, she had developed a rather small crush on Donald Malarkey. Often, in boredom during the day or late at night if she couldn't sleep, she would close her eyes and imagine how different their meeting could have been if she had simply been a girl in a bar.

She liked to listen to the stories of his life back home in Oregon. It sounded ideal – large, mature woods to run around in, plenty of fishing and adventures. She imagined herself visiting him. Penk and Skip were there too. She could imagine the laugh her and Don would have trying to teach those two how to fly fish. Of course, she kept all of that to herself – simply wrote it down in her journal to quell the need.

He liked to watch her expressions as she reacted to the company's antics. Her face would light up, or she would cringe, throw her head back and laugh – the myriad of ways she held her face captivated him. If only he could get in her head. If it was a place he could visit, he knew it would take the shape of a labyrinth. He watched her write in the worn leather journal she kept in her trunk and he wondered what she was scribing. Was she lamenting about the hard day Sobel had put them all through? Was she making up stories? Was she regretting ever coming here?

He knew better than to pry about her life back home. Her reluctance to talk about it made him worry – was she running from something? Where was she going to go if they got leave for the holidays? He wondered if there was a man in her life. Maybe he was a Marine – or a pilot already in England. Above all, he valued her opinion – she was sharp as a tack and quick-witted. Not everybody could hold their own in a battle of words with Wild Bill – and Alice had proved she was one of them.

Don had to admire her bravery – she was a lamb that had walked into the lion's den on her first day, but she quickly stood up and competed with the best of them. Nobody in the entire camp could outshoot her. She was smart and fair and had a sarcastic sense of humor. Her quiet nature was comforting and Don found himself wondering if he'd be lucky enough to find someone like her eventually.

OOOOOO

Her back was killing her. Sobel had weighed her pack down, which was digging into her shoulder blade painfully. He had also stripped off Shifty's pack and made her wear it backwards, covering her front, as she kneeled down behind a wooden wall on the rifle course.

Ignoring the throbbing strain from her neck, she breathed out, her eyes trained on the small black target across the course – beneath a tree and peeking over a wooden wall similar to hers. There were ten targets like this dotted across the course. It was Alice's task to hit every one of them in under three minutes. If she did, she'd be guaranteed as expert-sniper. Shifty from third platoon had hit his targets in under two minutes…as good as he was, he hadn't been weighed down by the equivalent of three full packs on his shoulders. Sobel was testing her limits every day now – and every time his treatment of her grew worse. She was not about to break, as much as she wanted to yell out and make it stop, she would endure…she wouldn't let him get the best of her.

She was growing – her abilities and her courage were expanding everyday. Growing bolder and more audacious. Getting revenge on that man from Fox Company was the first step. Looking back, she can't believe she had the gall to seek him out, let alone lay him flat with a punch to the face.

Alice had only been in position for five seconds and was about to fire when Sobel began barking in her ear, "Your men are being shot down, McRae! They are dying around you! Do I need to remind you that speed and efficiency is your priority as a sniper?!" He had been screaming at her like this, for the better part of the day. Every single thing she did was met with criticism, blame, and name-calling. "Do you want to be made sniper, McRae? Answer me!"

"Yes sir", she said back.

Don was standing to the side with the rest of the company watching. Alice was the second-to-last member to go out for expert-sniper. The only one out of five so far to make it was Shifty. There was one younger private to go after Alice: Newton - and he looked like he was about to shit himself.

"I don't believe you, Private." Sobel stood up taller, looking down at her, "This isn't just a playground, this is war. You may have had the high-life back home, but here you are nothing. Nothing but another pair of boots on the ground." Alice clenched her jaw as she focused and quickly identified the locations of the remaining nine targets. Sobel, seeing as he wasn't affecting her properly, leaned down again and spoke, seething near her ear, "you won't have this long in battle, Ms. McRae…or should I call you the Queen of Spades?" A stab of hatred pierced her gut and before anyone could think about what Sobel had just said, Alice pulled the trigger rapidly. Ten times. Ten successive hits. Ten targets down in thirteen seconds. Sobel jerked his head to his staff, who ran out and confirmed Alice's hits. "NEXT!" he screamed, yanking off Shifty's pack from Alice's shoulders and throwing it back to him.

"Private Newton, sir", Newton stood forward, his posture looking wilted.

Alice was about to join Easy when Sobel grabbed the back of her collar, stopping her. From his position, Don frowned and his heart began to pound. "Private McRae, the _pin-up_ of snipers here, will be aiding Private Newton."

"Sir", Alice acknowledged warily, unsure of what he meant and not appreciating the poor pun.

Sobel smirked, "McRae will hold the push-up position for the duration of Newton's challenge for expert-sniper." Easy remained silent, stunned – everyone knew that Newton had a knack for hitting a target, but not at an expert level, he signed up for the test for practice. Alice could be holding position for a good ten minutes or more. "Newton, take position…McRae, you too". Alice slipped her pack off her shoulders and assumed push-up position. The throbbing in her neck and back quickly worked it's way to her head as she fought to hold still. A full minute went by when Sobel kicked dirt up at Alice's face, "for every minute that ticks by, I will make this harder for McRae – Newton, that is on you!"

"Is he fucking serious?" Penk breathed. Beside him, Don's blood began to boil. It was no wonder that Alice wouldn't get close to anyone when she couldn't even trust her own leadership.

"Two minutes!" Sobel hollered, kicking dirt again.

"The hell with this", Don whispered angrily as he, too, got down into push-up position.

One by one, the entire company had assumed the position, showing solidarity while Newton struggled to hit all of his targets.

"Are we taking sides, Easy Company?" Sobel questioned. "Three minutes!" He kicked dirt at Alice again. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to cough. "Your whole company is waiting on you, Newton". He stalked around in place, hands on his hips, "I'm surprised none of you have figured McRae out yet". From her position, Alice tried to keep breathing, was he about to out her? "If you only knew the whole story. Four minutes!" More dirt, Alice's elbows began to shake and her eyes were stinging. "I would imagine that you would be more inquisitive about a female joining the ranks of men." He stopped and glared down at Alice's struggling figure, "I know I would be. It's a good thing you've got no friends here, McRae – God knows what they'd have to endure trying to protect you. Five minutes!" More dirt.

"What the fuck is he getting at?" Don hissed under his breath, hating that he couldn't stop Sobel from abusing Alice. Was Sobel saying outright that he would punish anyone who became 'friends' with her? Is that why she kept her distance? What did Sobel know about Alice that made him punish her so? The fact was, Sobel was on hard on Easy, but things only got horrible when Alice showed her talent for shooting. When it came to her, he revealed a really ugly side to himself.

"Newton better hurry the hell up", Bill seethed.

Popping rounds off one by one, it took Newton a full eight minutes before he had hit all of his marks and Sobel relived them.

"Only two of you passed for expert-sniper: Powers and McRae. We're done here. Dismissed", Sobel spat on the ground by Alice's boots before stalking off.

Gingerly placing her knees on the ground before kneeling up, Alice rubbed her face with the sleeve of her OD's, trying to rid her skin of dirt. Her stomach churned and she felt light headed as she took a breath to steady herself. In the back of her mind, she tiredly hoped that there would be enough warm water for her shower that night. She was filthy. Sighing and try hard not to feel sorry for herself, she knew that she wouldn't even be able to relax in the showers – not after what had happened to her there. She no longer felt safe anywhere – even if she had paid the favor back to that blond prick behind the armory.

"Jesus", she hissed, spotting a cut across her palm from a sharp rock on the ground, "perfect", she lamented, gathering her rifle.

"Hey Ace", Bill called out as a small group approached her.

"What did you call me?" she asked, curious.

Penk smirked, "Ace".

"The boys here thought it fit", Don told her, eyeing her up and down. She was distressed – that much was certain. Her honey colored hair was darkened with dirt; her neck was covered in it.

She smirked humorlessly as she stood up, brushing her pants off and rolling her shoulders, "Ace, huh?"

"You are a regular shootin' Ace, McRae", Skip offered her a cigarette.

"No thanks", she shook her head. Her eyes sought out Powers as he walked by and she nodded to him, "congratulations, Powers".

"You too, McRae", Powers nodded politely, "…never seen anyone shoot like you though".

"I've never seen anyone as dirty as you", George snarked beside Toye.

Alice looked down to her OD's, "well, what are you gonna do? Training, right?"

" _That_ is not normal training", Bill started, "I don't care what kinda Army movies you've seen".

"Not many, it seems", Alice shrugged.

"I seriously doubt Germans will make you hold a push-up position and kick dirt at your face", Skip started, "I could be wrong though…"

"We can ask them when we're over there", Penk nodded.

"I don't plan on letting a German get a hold of me to find out", Alice affirmed.

"That's the right idea, right there", Don nodded.

She found herself smiling back at him. How long had it been since she was able to joke around? It felt like an eternity. Why had she ever isolated herself – talking to someone never felt so good. A bit of dirt tickled her nose and she bowed her head to scratch; she remembered Sobel and what he knew about her and then she remembered why she didn't allow herself the luxury of company. "I uh, gotta hit the showers before it's too late".

"I'll walk you there", Don started to whistles from the group, "knock it off". Alice bit her lip, embarrassed at the insinuation. He turned to her, "ready?"

They broke away from their group and walked a few minutes before Alice turned to him, "you're here just to get a punch in after last time, huh?" she joked.

"Is it that obvious?" She smiled and he shrugged, "no…no, I just don't want that happening to you again". He looked at her sideways, "something tells me that I won't have to worry about that though."

"You think I sent a message?"

"I _know_ you did", he countered.

"Do you think anyone knows?" she asked quietly.

"That it was you? No. The guy from Fox isn't talking – and he won't", Don began, "plus, if the whole camp knew, then Sobel would have been first in line to punish you". He watched as she brushed dirt from her hair and neck as they neared the showers, "he may be toughening us up for war, but what he does to you…it isn't right – none of us think so. I just wanted you to know that".

She appreciated his pensive face before she spoke, "you didn't have to get into position with me earlier…it just eggs him on and I don't want anyone in trouble because of me".

"You have to know something – we were getting trouble long before you and your rifle showed up, alright?", he smirked at her as she smiled, her dimples showing, "You are a part of this company, you are one of us – and we take care of our own. You can't survive this thing on your own, Ace".

She nodded, hearing and appreciating his message before looking back up at him, "now that I've been christened with a nickname I don't think I could get away with being quiet anymore", she observed bashfully.

Don laughed, "now _that_ I know for certain."

"Thanks for walking me", she said sincerely as she grabbed a towel and headed into the deserted shower room.

Alice had to admit; it felt so damn good to feel welcomed, to feel like she had somewhere to belong. As she turned on the shower, she knew her isolation would be a difficult habit to break herself of. It had become a familiar pain, and even though she felt like her company would support her, it was scary to give up a certainty.

She nearly groaned as she peeled off her undershirt and finally stood beneath the blessedly warm spray. Her thoughts floated to Sobel. His words and obvious insinuations today worried her. Would he get pushed to the point of outing her in front of the company? Colonel Sink had made it sound like he didn't care about her background, and he knew it wouldn't affect her shooting. She knew Sobel felt differently – he obviously felt like the men would recoil or rebel if they knew. Would they? Would they rebel to the point of wanting her out?

Alice shook her head. She didn't like being held hostage by her anxiety over her past. It was a part of her, it happened and she can't run from it. She was going to have to make peace with her past to give herself an opportunity to move on from it. Thing was…it wasn't her modeling or pin-up career that she regretted – she didn't even regret walking away from what could have been a film career.

What she regretted was how her mother had used her to get attention for herself, how her fiancé Robert hadn't really loved her. She had been a cash cow, a meal ticket…used, belittled, and shushed. Gritting her teeth beneath the hard spray of the shower, she vowed that that was not who she was anymore. No longer would she be beaten down to a submissive role…she had too many opinions and thoughts to keep her down anymore.

Finishing up, she grabbed a new pair of OD's, dressed herself and threw her towel into the bin. Walking out of the showers, she sighed in relief and then spotted Don, who was leaning up against the wall. "You waited for me", she said, surprised.

He walked over to her, hands in his pockets, "I was serious about making sure you don't get targeted again".

"You didn't have to do that", she started.

"I'm ignoring that kind of statement from you from now on", he shrugged as she kept pace with him back to barracks; "get that through your head, Ace". Before they got to barracks, he turned to her, "I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that back home nobody asked you what _you_ wanted?"

"What do you mean?" At his direct question, she could feel her walls itching to spring up around her.

He sighed, "I mean that I've watched you – we all have – and you don't speak up for yourself".

She cocked her head, "am I supposed to talk back to Sobel?"

"No, I meant _us_ – the company. You never talk to us".

"My M1 does my talking", she affirmed.

Don nodded, "oh I know…but when it comes to us, we don't bite", he laughed softly, grinning when she cracked a smile, "we're a team…and you're one of us. We're not gonna desert you."

"Thank you", she responded, touched by his bluntness.

"You got it", he nodded as he held the barracks door open for her. She spotted a hatbox-sized package on her bed and she frowned. "You got a package. Someone from home?" Don asked curiously.

"Don't know who that would be", she muttered honestly as she neared her bed. Don, Penk, and Skip stood beside her talking as she opened it. Curiously, there was no return address marked on the outside. It was barely marked up – the box itself looked new and immaculate. Opening the lid, she saw a nest of red colored tissue. Perplexed, she reached in and moved it aside, discovering the contents within: a deep red, lace brassiere and panty set. Expensive looking. Her heart dropped. Immediately Alice snatched the envelope tucked in and snapped the lid back on the box. What the fuck was this?

Penk laughed, "is there an animal in there?" He gestured to the box, "you look like your hand was about to get bitten off".

Alice shook her head, smirking – trying to disguise her flustered embarrassment and discourage their curiosity. She looked to the quality stationary in her hand. Slipping out the note, she turned her back to the men for the illusion of privacy.

' _Have you had your fill of fun yet? If you're planning on snagging a husband while at summer camp, here is something to help you along…though I doubt any of those boys will tickle your fancy. – Mother'_

Alice was appalled. This wasn't out of character for her mother, but she was blown away that her mother would manage to find her location and take the pains to send something like this. Silk and lace like that had been rationed for a while – it had to have cost her a pretty penny…and all for the sake of making a point? What a waste.

"Holy shit", Don breathed behind Alice's turned back. He had lifted the lid of the box to see what had caused such a reaction, when he saw the risqué contents. To say that his imagination did not immediately give him a visual of what Alice would look like in the red garment would have been a lie…but Don knew better than to say anything, he silently felt his cheeks go warm. Alice turned around, took one look at Don's red face and put two and two together. "It isn't every day you get a gift like that", he offered innocently. In the back of his mind he wondered if a man sent them to her. At the thought he quickly grew resentful – where is that man now? Why is Alice here training for war while this guy is out spending a lump of cash on lingerie that she can't even wear at Toccoa? Why did that guy get to call Ace his girl?

"This is embarrassing", she pulled the box uncomfortably towards her and dumped the contents quickly into her trunk.

"You don't have to be embarrassed. Believe it or not, I've seen that kind of stuff before". Don couldn't help himself, "from your boyfriend back in Los Angeles?"

Alice clenched her jaw…her ex-fiancé Robert would never have been so bold – he didn't have the balls that her Mother had…plus she had cut him lose; he was history, "nope – no boyfriend".

"You're puttin' me on", he smiled, interested now, "you must have a ton of boyfriends". She looked at him like he had three heads, "I'm serious", he defended.

She shook her head, "no", she answered simply, without bitterness.

"Come on. Is there something wrong with you?" he joked.

Sighing lightly, she shrugged. If he wanted an answer, she'd give him an honest one – she was going to try and make an effort to get to know the men. "I…I've never been the type to…keep a boyfriend." She knew right then that opening up to the men was going to be hard without them finding out about her previous career.

"Why is that?" he asked honestly curious.

She wanted to be totally honest and tell him that men fell in love with her all the time…but it wasn't _her_. They fell in love with her photo – they fell in love with the shell of her. She had grown so disappointed in men that she decided love wasn't in the cards for her. "It can be hard as a girl – men see the pretty dress, perfect makeup – they see the shiny exterior…most aren't interested in what goes on inside". She was being abstract, she knew as much, but she wanted him to understand…and part of her wanted to see his regret; part of her wanted to get rejected to prove her point. "I avoid boyfriends".

"So you're not the romantic?" he asked, his eyes skipping over her features.

"Oh, quite the contrary", she answered, "I'm helpless". They laughed together softly and she congratulated herself for speaking for more than a few minutes to someone. "I like to write. I'd like to be an author one day…and I think any good writer is a horrible romantic".

"Is that why you're always scribbling in that book of yours?" he pointed at her, "I bet you've written a good bit about each of us in there."

"And if I have?" she responded slyly.

He grinned, "you better hope I don't get my hands on it, Ace".

 **Let me know what you think! More to come. xoxoxo**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Band of Brothers' – the miniseries or the book – nor do I intend ANY disrespect to the real men of Easy Company. All that is mine is Alice McRae and a deep, profound respect for the real heroes.**

 **A big THANK YOU to everyone who has read, reviewed, or followed my story. I really appreciate it xoxo**

"Are we playing twenty questions here or am I teaching you how to shoot without a scope?"

Beside her, Don raised one hand in mock surrender, the other holding his M1, "hey, I've got you alone, I may as well ask questions while I can".

"I suppose I can't blame you for your logic", she acquiesced lightly.

"Those guys", he began, referring to their company, "constantly badgering you. Do you know that you start to wrinkle your nose when they start asking too many questions?"

"Do you know that you get increasingly flirtatious when you're trying to get something?" she countered playfully.

"Do I?" he winked as she laughed. He took aim once again, "so answer me, what the hell was with the hot little red panty number?"

"See how you're veering to the right? Relax your left shoulder, keep your eye on the target", she softly directed. He fired one shot, and had gotten closer to the center of the target this time. When he maintained focus and didn't break once again to prod, she decided it was time to answer – to hell with dodging his questions. From beside him on the grass, she crossed her legs and fiddled with her shoelaces, "you're going to cringe when I tell you who _that_ was really from".

"Malarkey's never cringe", he responded easily, shifting his weight onto his elbows as he aimed again.

Alice studied his posture, this time admiring him instead of critiquing. They were alone on the firing range for the time being. Don had asked for help on his aim and a few other guys were due to join them soon. She wanted to be close to him – but this wall she'd constructed proved hard to break down - even from her side. He was persistent as the day was long; she couldn't knock him for that trait. She wanted to hug him for being so patient with her. "My mother sent them". _PING!_ A wild shot ricocheted off the side of the target. Don dropped his rifle and turned to look at her. Alice kept her eyes calmly on his; his face was screwed up in a horrified expression. "I don't see you cringing, but I did manage to render you silent – I consider that a draw".

"Are you serious right now?" he asked in a breathless voice.

She held back a laugh as she nodded once, "her note asked me if I was done with 'summer camp'…and that I could use the _gift_ she sent to snag a husband."

"Shit", Don whispered. He was honest-to-God alarmed to learn who had sent Alice that stuff.

"I was more concerned that she found out where I was".

"She didn't know where you went?" he asked, sitting up on the grass.

"I didn't tell either of them where I was headed. I signed up for basic on my own time, and when the date came, I got on a bus and left", she revealed.

Don frowned, " _either of them_ ", he echoed, "your Dad is in Boston, right?"

Alice bit her lip, she'd let that slip, "yeah, he's in Boston…and I haven't seen him in years". She had been referring to someone else.

"So who else did you leave in Los Angeles besides your Mother?"

She took a breath, knowing what she was about to divulge, "A week after I signed up for basic training, I broke things off with my boyfriend Robert". She held onto the word 'fiancé' – it felt entirely too formal, too real. "He didn't like leaving me alone…to say the least, so I made sure not to tell him where I was headed either".

Don swallowed the urge to vomit at her quiet confession and what he thought it might actually mean. "I can read between the lines, Ace. Did he…did he ever hit you or anything?" When she didn't answer right away, his blood ran cold. Whoever this _Robert_ was, he'd better pray that Don would never meet him. "Are you kidding?"

"He didn't hit me _per se_ …"

"Alice." Don said lowly.

"…He shoved me once", she remembered softly as she looked down to the blades of grass she had plucked in anxiety, and saw Don bristle at the corner of her eye. "It was mostly verbal".

"Jesus", he hissed, unable to put words together. His heart went in to two places – he felt so much for her, he wanted to hug her…and he also wanted to seek out revenge.

"I was a very different person back then", she defended weakly.

"That doesn't make him right", he shook his head, then studied her downcast face, "knowing you now, I don't see how you could have put up with that".

She looked up at him then, her eyes a little misty, "I don't know how I did either", she said truthfully. She kept her gaze even on his - daring him to look away, scared that she would see him retreat from her. If he did that now…Lord knows what he would think if he ever found out the whole truth.

He held her gaze, feeling like an anchor for her in that moment. He had viewed her as a force of nature – but this woman before him had secrets, and he got the feeling he just got a glimpse of the tip of the iceberg. "Who was that girl back then?" he was asking seriously and rhetorically.

A tear skipped down her face and she smiled at his question despite herself, "that's a story for another day".

"I'll be here waiting", he teased gently. Without thinking, he reached forward and wiped the tear from her cheek. He caught himself as she flinched minutely, "I'm sorry…"

"It's fine, I promise", she smiled.

"No, it's…it's not. None of it is", he whispered.

Alice felt the familiar bubble of anger burst from her gut. She was angry with Robert, with her mother, with her whole past for making her feel this…vulnerable. Studying the target now, she counted Don's shots as she continued in a passive voice, "my mother moved me to Los Angeles because she'd always wanted to be an actress but never got the chance." Purposefully keeping silent on her own career, she spoke again, "Robert and my mother both used me in different ways. Even after I quit and left everything, they still didn't see what they did was wrong". Alice reached over to Don's disregarded M1, "may I?"

"By all means", Don breathed. He watched her intently as she fluidly pulled the rifle up, knelt up on both knees and immediately fired the rest of the magazine at the target. He didn't have to look over to see that she'd hit her mark every time. "Does shooting make you feel better?"

She swallowed tensely and gently laid the rifle back down on the cool grass, keeping her eyes on the target. "No…not really…but it reminds me of where I'm from." She turned to him, "I wasn't lying when I said my Dad taught me how to shoot. He used to take me hunting back in Massachusetts".

"I hunted back in Astoria", he smiled, "we fished mostly, but I've been out hunting before".

"My dad took me fishing too; I was a bit of a tom-boy".

"When you were in Los Angeles, where did you go shoot?" he asked, "I mean, those skills of yours are practiced".

Alice smirked, "My dad had given me a collection of guns when I left", she laughed, "can you imagine? I was a kid and there was my dad, handing off guns to me as a parting gift." Her tenor grew sentimental, "he was a salt-of-the-earth kind of guy…he didn't see any oddness in that." She turned to Don, "I made time for myself – I found a little gun range out of town and practiced there. I didn't tell anyone about it. In fact…you're the first person to know".

"I feel privileged", he put his hand over his heart.

"You should", she joked.

"I'm serious…" Don began, looking at her imploringly.

"Hey over there!" Skip's voice hollered out to them, echoing over the range.

Don looked back at Alice as she waved to the approaching group, "you know you can tell me anything", he muttered.

Alice turned to look at him when Penk called out, his arms gesturing wildly, "Alice, where the hell are my baseball cards?!"

Don laughed, "why would he ask you that?"

She laughed aloud, "Penk and I have this thing where we secretly take turns and hide one another's stuff. I'm surprised he couldn't find them." She turned to Penk, "it was a test", she declared, "how long does it take Penk to wash his dirty socks?" she asked the rest of the men as they stopped.

"That's not funny, my cards have been missing for a week", he whined.

Alice rolled her eyes, "exactly…that's so gross. Check your hamper back at barracks, big guy". At that, the group began to laugh.

Alice looked back at Don, who smiled warmly at her. Looking at him, she knew he wasn't about to drop their earlier discussion. For right now, she was ok with that.

Don admired her pretty face, seeing the well-practiced façade slip back into place in front of the other men. He felt honored to have been privy to her confessions of her past, but he knew there was more.

OOOOOO

Alice was frustrated.

The first few months at camp had left her body sore, and therefore unable to feel much of anything else. Problem was, she had grown used to the drills and all of the runs…and now she was feeling something else more and more…

She knew she was ridiculous, she knew there was no use for these lame, useless, impractical _feelings_ ….feelings she felt towards Don.

They were innocent, really – and nothing that she actually planned on acting upon. Goodness, she'd rather jump off a cliff than subject herself to the humiliation of admitting a crush. This was a special brand of frustration that was better left ignored and suffered in silence.

Honestly, in her misery she exaggerated her frustration – for she had discovered a way to indulge herself: she wrote stories. Stories of fantasies she had that kept her amused.

She also learned that the men needed the same 'indulgence'.

It had been a rather embarrassing revelation. A loose piece of paper with one of her 'stories' on it had gotten away from her. Liebgott, of all people, had found it. He had actually read it aloud to the barracks…and the response had been epically favorable. Bill had whistled and said that the men around camp would pay to read more like it.

That's how her little secret 'business' had formed. For someone who didn't have family to ship them comforts from home, Alice needed spending money – she dare not touch her savings, not yet – and she needed beer-money for weekend passes at the local bar.

This was why she was hunched over a pad of paper, using her trunk as a writing surface.

' _He captured her lips in a tender kiss as his hips tilted forward and down, sinking into her. They broke the kiss, panting into each other's mouths in relieved breaths. He buried himself so deep inside her that she could feel his pulse, she clenched around him in response and he groaned, trying to remain in control._

 _With one arm bent and supporting his weight, he cupped her face with his other hand as he kissed her again and began to move gently. Arching his back, pulling out slowly, reentering her deliberately – he earned a choked gasp as her arms held his body to hers, her lips kissing down his neck as he moved within her._

 _The feeling was intense, erotic, and nearly indescribable._

 _He moaned as her lips reached his pulse beneath his jaw. His senses were focused solely on her, on the symphony of pleasurable noises she was making…'_

"Ace, is that the new one?"

Alice looked up to Hoobler standing above her as she stealthily pushed her pen beneath her bed, "Don already has first dibs. I'm nearly finished with it".

He chuckled, "who'd have thought that dames like this stuff too, huh?"

"Imagine that", she grinned as he walked off. Poor guy had no idea she had just finished writing it.

Lieb had been correct – the men definitely were paying for the stories. She was charging ten cents a pop to 'rent' the novellas; they would be circulated and someone else would rent them, etc. There was a jar in an unmarked locker filled with dimes that the men added to faithfully. Alice made sure no one was around when she emptied it. Simple as that. She had to laugh to herself how popular they had become.

She had written nine so far – this was her tenth. That's how she knew how frustrated she really was – they had been a little too easy to write…and every time, she imagined the same man.

"Care to give me a sneak peek?" Hoobler's brow arched deviously.

She shook her head sheepishly, not wanting to give away how fresh the ink was, "I'd hate to spoil the surprise for you".

"Alright – who's got the last one, then?"

"Go find Toye, I think he's got the last one", she answered.

"Thanks, doll", he said as he discreetly placed his dime in the jar in the locker.

Alice gently blew on the pages of her most recent story, folding them together and making her way outside. She had been circulating the stories for a couple weeks – and had made a killing. For as silly as her imagination could be, she had to pat herself on the back for having the audacity to actually let the men read her work.

Even though they didn't know it was her who wrote them, it was still nerve wracking to hear feedback. Even more ridiculous was the fact that she took the feedback seriously – she'd altered a few things here and there to keep their interest. Funny thing was…they noticed.

Entertainment while at camp was limited for everyone. There was only so many movies you could see before you got bored…and it seemed the army had a library of about three films – by now, everyone knew them word-for-word. Alice was a liberal-minded woman; she knew that everyone – men _and_ women – needed an outlet, and she happy to provide.

"Finished it then?" Don asked as she walked towards him in the alley behind their barracks. There was an unspoken rule among the men who knew about the stories: they came from no one and nowhere. Alice knew that no one could find out that she had written them, they'd be considered contraband. Anyone who had gotten a hand on her stories had been 'referred' by another reader, and so on. For as many men knew about the stories, no one knew about her direct involvement.

"Hot off the press", she joked quietly.

"You're telling me", he flipped her ten cents, "thanks for passing it to me next".

"Don't mention it", she smirked, making her way back to barracks.

"Hey", he called out as she turned around, "where do you think this stuff comes from? Not that I'm complaining…but, it's actually good". Alice shrugged and he continued, "you think anyone in our company writes this?"

"No idea", she responded after a moment, uncommitted. She then turned around to walk away before he could ask any more.

"That's not what I think", Don's voice came from behind her.

Frowning, she turned to Don. He was standing close to her now, a confident look in his eye. "Then what do you think?" she asked, her heart pounding. It was pounding more out of embarrassment than fear now.

Don's heart was pounding at her closeness. His eyes raked her expression and he tried to put on a sure-looking face. "I think you wrote it", he whispered, "it's always the quiet ones". Don had found something a week ago and he had been waiting to trap Alice to get her to fess up. Just like all of the other men, he had read the stories – they were well written and Don didn't think any man in their outfit could write that way. He confided his idea in Skip, who had laughed at his plan of confronting her. Skip be damned, Don was going to get her to confess to him anyway.

"You can't prove anything", she whispered back.

"I think I can".

"Surprise me then".

He pulled a piece of paper from behind his back, "this is from you – you crumpled it up and threw it away after writing in your journal. It's harmless, but look at the handwriting". Don had pulled it from the wastebasket when she tossed it after writing in her journal. Call him committed or insane or bored…but he compared the handwriting and it looked so similar.

Alice took the paper from him. It was a few dates written down, a few benign notes. She had used the same pen; her handwriting tilted the same way – except she wrote the stories in all capital letters. She was going to have to lie, "this paper is mine – which tells me you're really suspicious if you're digging for my trash to prove a wild theory. But I didn't write the stories".

He looked into her eyes and Alice felt herself bristle at the intimacy, "I don't believe you", he hushed playfully.

"You don't have to", she said softly.

"I'm going to find out, you may as well tell me", he smirked.

Alice suppressed a grin at his smug face, she was amused, "why do you even care?"

His smirked faded a degree, "you've told me a lot about you…I figured you'd trust me with this, if it was true".

Alice stepped closer to him, confident in the moment seeing as they were alone, "honey, you don't know the first thing about me…" she murmured teasingly in a seductive tone.

His pupils blew wide as he regarded her and she smirked, liking her effect on him, "is that right?" he whispered. 

She nodded, happy he was playing along - she would take what flirting she could get, "and if I did write them?...would you gloat that you were right?..or would you want to know that _you_ were the inspiration?"

"…Please tell me you wrote them", his eyes flickered down to her lips. She grinned and leaned back, walking away from him now as she shrugged. "God damnit, Ace", he groaned.

OOOOOO

"You sure are keeping up with us, Ace", Bill pointed out her newly tapped pint glass and winked.

"It's not a competition, Bill", she laughed, looking around the crowded bar. Seeing as it was Friday night, the place was jam-packed full of paratroopers. Apart from a small handful of local girls, Alice blended into the crowd wearing her tailored Class B's.

"Hey, you didn't answer my question", Skip nudged her shoulder, frowning.

"What game are we playing?" She shook her head, trying to focus. In the roar of the bar, between the music and the raucous laughter, it was hard to concentrate.

"Don't make him explain the rules again!" Penk whined.

"Who would you kill, who would you marry and who you'd….make whoopee with", Don stated.

"Come again?" she chuckled, sure she misheard.

"I name three names", Skip started as Penk groaned, "and you have to say who you'd kill, who you'd marry, and who you'd….you know".

"You can curse in front of me, you know", she nodded, teasing him.

"I'm still getting used to cursing in front of a dame!" he defended.

"Same here", Don patted his back.

"I'm still getting used to Alice talking this much", Penk teased, lightly punching her arm.

"Say it", Alice dared Skip.

Skip's mouth hung open as he tried not to laugh, "come on!"

"You're making me play the game, the least you can do is say it", she arched a brow at him.

"We're playing marry, fuck, and kill", he grinned.

"Was that so hard?" she badgered, laughing aloud.

"Ok, ok, so who are the three we're giving her?" Penk asked.

Skip looked around the room and Alice laughed at him, pointing, "you're gonna name guys here? I figured you'd name some movie stars or something".

"You're not getting off that easy, sweetheart", he grinned.

"Or is she?" Don smirked darkly at her. Alice wrinkled her nose at him as she took a sip of beer.

"Alright, alright", Skip shushed them, "here we go. Sobel, Winters, …and Malarkey".

"Me?" Don's ears went pink and Alice fought to not choke on her beer.

"Shut up, she needs to answer" Skip said, his knowing eyes intent on Alice's.

Alice was stunned. She had played her fair share of poker games. She knew when she was being baited to show her hand…and by judging Skip's smug face, she had a hankering that he had figured out her 'crush'. There was no way she could give him any ammunition. Beside her Penk guffawed, "Sobel, really? Don't go too easy on her, Skip".

"I'd kill Sobel", she began bluntly, her eyes on Skip. He grinned at her, his eyebrows raising as she suppressed the desire to roll her eyes

"Any of us would, obviously", Penk clinked her glass.

Alice glanced around the bar when she spotted Winters. Winters didn't typically go out to the bars with the men, but that night it seemed that his constant companion, Lewis Nixon, had coerced him outdoors. She admired Winters' tall figure standing at the back of the establishment. "Sizing up the competition?" Skip insinuated, his glee obvious.

"What competition?" Don boasted innocently, "I'm obviously winning whoever she chooses now".

She didn't turn to them as she thought out her answer. The romantic in her wanted to say she'd marry Malarkey – it was the truth, but that was so cliché…and he and Skip were due a little shock. Instead, she kept her eyes on Winters and said dreamily, "I'd marry Winters", then her eyes turned to Don and she smirked softly and quickly finished in a provocative tone, "and I'd fuck Malarkey". Penk and Skip hollered at her tone and slapped Don on the back as his face went from pink to red. She shook her head at their exuberance, having to look away after saying that, "Remind me not to play 'Truth or Dare' with you guys".

"What about 'Spin the Bottle'?" Penk wagered, giggling still.

Alice laughed, "I think I'd be the only one spinning any bottle if we played that."

Skip scoffed, "you think I wouldn't want to kiss Penk? Come on!"

"And let Faye Tanner find out back home? Never", Don laughed.

As they were laughing together, the local bar-keep approached their table, "Private McRae?"

Frowning, she turned to him, "yes?"

"You've got a phone call in the back", he didn't seem too pleased to tell her that.

"Seriously?" Penk said into his empty glass.

Don looked to her gravely as Alice nodded; she had a sinking suspicion of who it could be, "I'll get you guys another round when I'm done. I'll be right back". She ignored Don's worried gaze as she nodded to the bar tender who led her to a rotary phone around the corner from the washrooms. She picked up the receiver and spoke after she was alone, "hello?"

"Did you get my present?"

Alice took a breath, "hello mother".

Her voice just as pointed and harsh as it was the last time she spoke to her months ago, "I'm going to ignore the pleasantries and just get to the point. I knew you'd roll your eyes at the peace-offering I sent…"

"Peace offering?" Alice began dryly.

"Oh hush", her mother interrupted her, "if you hadn't left Robert, I wouldn't have to worry about you finding another man."

"I don't need another man", she deadpanned.

"Please don't tell me you've cut off all your lovely hair and are now one of those..lesbians", her mother chocked out.

"Oh, if you only knew", Alice replied under her breath.

"I'm calling because I have news", her mother announced arrogantly, "I called your old agent…remember, the one you sacked without telling me?" At Alice's silence, she continued, "he still has your pictures and I convinced him to submit them to Lucky Strike!"

"The cigarettes?" Alice was confused.

"They're putting pin-ups on the packs! It's limited edition, of course, all very scarce and important…but you're pretty face will be all over them! Along with other girls on other packs, of course…but you'll be out there again! You can come back to town and start your career again - it's never too late. They start selling tomorrow."

Alice pulled the receiver away from her ear, sick to her stomach and hearing her mother demand her excitement over this infringement; over this violation and betrayal. She broke out in a cold sweat as she realized the true magnitude of this circumstance. "Don't call me again", she breathed distractedly into the phone, hanging up and placing her hands on the wooden walls.

She tried to catch her breath and stop the hallway from spinning as she contemplated the gravity of the situation…there was no way to avoid it now. They were all going to find out. They were all going to see her pictures splattered across the most popular cigarette packs on base. She didn't have enough money to buy all of the Lucky Strikes in Toccoa…it seemed that now, she was stuck.

 **Tell me what you think! More to come. xoxoxoxo**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Band of Brothers' – the miniseries or the book – nor do I intend ANY disrespect to the real men of Easy Company. All that is mine is Alice McRae and a deep, profound respect for the real heroes.**

 **A big THANK YOU to everyone who has read, reviewed, or followed my story. I really appreciate it xoxo  
**

 **PLEASE forgive the mini-hiatus – I began a new gig and have allowed myself some time to adjust :-)**

She had her first panic attack after her first big editorial photo unveiling.

People were everywhere in the large apartment she shared with her mother. The trill of the music was shrill and never ending, the champagne was too sweat, women's perfume too strong, and Alice couldn't get to the terrace outside fast enough to gulp in the cold night air. She'd tried to steady herself on the lights from their impressive view of Downtown Los Angeles, but they were blurred and shaking.

She remembered her mother talking loudly to anyone who would listen; Robert in the corner, another drink in his hand, chatting up some curvaceous blonde.

That moment was too similar to what she was feeling now, in the back of this crowded and hot bar in Georgia. She tried to concentrate, tried to distract herself and name the color of the dilapidated wood that lined the walls of the corridor. Burnt umber? Ocher?

She tried to count the amount of panels, but quickly grew sick of the numbers floating around her head. Her eyes felt like they were crossing.

"Fuck", she breathed out. Had she been drugged? Or was she actually panicking next to the bathrooms like she'd been stood up at the senior prom?

Reaching out, she felt the walls, trying anything to ground herself – to get her feet back underneath her. The panels were cool to the touch and sticky from the layers and layers of varnish. A cold chill shimmied down her spine and she worried if she would make it to the toilet in case she threw up everywhere.

Her mother's condescending voice shot through her head, through the fog of her convoluted thoughts. _She sold her pictures to Lucky Strike just to make a quick buck_? She obviously was spending all the money Alice had left her…plus, she was still living in the apartment that Alice owned. When would she rectify that? That backwards arrangement could not go on forever.

Alice was sick – here she was, hundreds of miles away from Los Angeles, training to go to war; her old career behind her, and her mother was _still_ living off her and trying to bait her to come back.

She wondered if and when Robert would reach out on her mother's orders, trying to lure her back 'home'. That was a conversation she did not want to even imagine.

Home was nowhere now; home did not exist to Alice – she would have to forge it on her own.

Anger suddenly burst through the fog and her fist shot out, punching once into the wall.

A burst of pain rippled through her arm and she took a deep breath, feeling the hallway begin to cease its relentless spinning. She blinked a few times while flexing her hand; she'd be damned if she managed to damage it.

"Ace? You ok?"

Don called out to her warily and she snapped away from the wall, "hey", she answered distractedly.

He walked up to her, studying her posture. If he knew better, Don would say she was about to be sick, but she hadn't had _that_ much to drink. Her face was void of color and her eyes were misty and wide…and she was pulling that annoying habit if hers: hiding from him. Her shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, her tie loosened and pulled down. Don narrowed his eyes as he watched her try and pretend she was alright, "are you ok?" he asked point-blank, his voice holding no jest.

Alice squirmed under his stare, disliking the intensity behind it. "Yeah, I'm fine", she brushed off easily.

"Bullshit", he bit back.

"Christ, Don", Alice shrugged, pushing her palms down the front of her trousers, "give me a break".

"Who was on the phone?" he questioned lightly after a beat of silence. He knew in his gut it was one of two people – her mother or that ex-boyfriend of hers.

Alice smirked humorlessly, as she made her way around Don's rigid posture, "don't worry about it". She knew the faster she could get back to their group at the table, Don would be forced to drop his questioning. She was so fiercely protective over her anonymity that she would have run away from Don faster if she could. The thought of him and everyone else in camp finding out who she once was, was humiliating.

"So that's that, huh?" he followed her back out to the tables, unhappy that she wasn't budging; unhappier that she _still_ wasn't letting her guard down. He knew there was a serious reason why she never would tell him too much about her past…but he wanted to help. After all, they'd be fighting beside one another soon enough – and something in him wanted to know, wanted to be close to her.

Alice didn't meet his eye, "I guess that's that". She beat Don back to their table, where Penk and Skip had been joined by Guarnere and Toye. "Drinks on me, fellas, what are you having?"

Don watched her ignore his presence as the men greeted her loudly and she made her way to the barkeep to order another round. When she leaned up against the bar, she turned and glanced back at Don, who kept his eyes on her. Her gaze was cold, unwavering – warning him to stay away. His heart dropped at the thought of her having to hide…she thought she hid her pain so well. What she didn't know was that he had seen her punch that wall…and he had every intention of finding out why.

OOOOOO

Alice had been to the commissary every afternoon after their intense drills for the three days following the phone call with her mother. She would walk by the soda and swing past the candy, grabbing a stick of spearmint gum, before stalking the stocked shelves of cigarettes. Alice had never been a smoker, but the stress of waiting to see if her face appeared on the packs made her think twice abut it.

Things had been quiet and tense between her and Don since their little confrontation in the bar. She was not going to cave and divulge everything. Desperately, she hoped that the limited-edition packs would never even make it to Toccoa – and that way, she'd never have to tell Don about it at all and she could forget the whole thing. But in reality…nothing was ever that easy.

She knew Don was worried about her that night, but what puzzled her was why he demanded an answer. It was her business; why did he care? She knew she held back whenever they spoke about their pasts. Alice chose to stick to stories that revolved around her father and shooting…she knew the Don wanted to hear more.

Truthfully, she wanted to tell him everything…but she had allowed too much time to pass now to introduce everything she'd held back. After all, what was she supposed to say: "Hi, I'm Alice and I used to be a successful pin-up model with a horrible fiancé and a mother who wouldn't let me quit because she needed a constant champagne drip."…that would raise some eyebrows, and she'd managed to forge her own identity here. Here, she was simply Private Alice McRae, sniper. No bells and no whistles.

She knew that if her past got out, she would be treated completely different, and that simply could not happen.

Alice argued to herself that if the tables were turned, and Don was holding out on her, she would have acted the same way. Her stomach flipped whenever she thought of her easy dismissal of his worries that night.

She knew she had a bad habit of ignoring the truth – and she knew she was ignoring Don. But it was easier at the moment to ignore him than to begin to expose herself and explain. Admittedly, her mind was in a terrible cloud – all she did was train, shoot, eat, sleep…and check the commissary everyday for the new packs of Luckys. She was in a revolving door at the moment and she couldn't think of anything else, let alone address the mess she'd made.

On the fourth afternoon, the wait was officially over.

Alice bypassed her gum that day, choosing a bottle of Coke instead; she nearly ran into the wall when she saw it: _her photo_. Her heart fell, then sped up and began pounding somewhere around her knees as she walked toward the display of cigarettes. She initially thought there might be twenty packs of her, and of other girls – her plan was to buy what she could, then shove the rest behind the shelves, never to be seen.

She was wrong. There had to be at least _two hundred_ packs – over eighty percent of which were _hers alone_. Her mother had planted this well…and no doubt had spent _her_ money doing it.

She swallowed thickly, the room feeling smaller, as she studied her pack; she remembered _this_ photo well. It had been one of her racier shoots. Right there, in the center of the pack of Lucky Strikes was her image, posed sitting down with her bare back toward the camera. Clad only in black silky bathing suit bottoms, her face turned coyly over her naked shoulder, her hair curled and draped down her back. 'Alice' was featured in red cursive script beside her picture. She instantly knew why her mother chose this photo - it stuck out like a sore thumb among the others.

Where the other pinup photos were playful and fun, hers was downright sultry. Alice had actually loved the way these photos had turned out when she first took them, but now, it was like a haunting from the past, someone who was taunting her.

"Shit", she whispered to herself. There was no outrunning it now. All she could do was pray no one recognized her.

OOOOOO

Don knew she had been keeping her distance. It had been obvious enough that Skip and Penk had asked him about it. Don was not about to 'out' her and speak about the words they'd exchanged in the back of the bar a few nights ago or tell them what he'd seen, but he kept an eye on her. She had taken a figurative step back and was playing the old wallflower routine.

Sadly, the men in their company hadn't really questioned why. Don received weird looks from everyone at her silence, sure, but it seemed they were content with the status quo and it didn't bother them that Ace wasn't being social.

It bothered Don a great deal.

Bothering him more was the lecture the battalion was about to receive and he couldn't spot her in the crowd. Surely, this was going to make her uncomfortable in a sea of rowdy men.

Alice squeezed into the auditorium trying to gauge where Easy Company was. Spotting George Luz dancing in the aisle beside an unamused Perconte, she shoved her way towards them.

"Ace!" Skip shouted, his hand waving her over.

"We saved a spot for you", Penk said as she scooted down the row of seats, trying to ignore the eyes on her ass as she passed by on her tip toes.

She stopped as she reached them, seeing Don in the seat next to the empty one, "hey", he nodded in greeting.

Before she could respond, Bill winked at her from the row behind them, "get a load of our classroom topic today, sweetheart". Next to him Johnny Martin and Joe Toye laughed. Alice turned to the front of the room as she took a seat.

The slide on the projector was titled: 'U.S. ARMY – Sexual Education…and You'.

Alice smiled, bemused and miserable. Nothing like a sex-talk to get the men calmed down.

"Are they going to talk to us about our changing bodies?" Hoobler snarked.

"I don't care what they talk about as long as they hand out condoms", Tab laughed.

Bull barked in laughter, "I've never seen this company more interested in damn lecture in all my life".

Perco leaned in, "do you think they'll wheel out a giant cake for some dame to pop out of?"

Cobb sniggered, down the row from them, "better yet, they'll call McRae up to the stage for a demonstration".

"I call dibs", Skinny smirked.

Don looked over to Alice, who looked like she was trying to melt into her seat. "Shut the hell up, fellas", he hushed over as the lights dimmed.

"Good luck getting into _her_ pants, buddy", Cobb shot back.

Before Don could retort, Alice had swiped the full pack of cigarettes from his front pocket and launched them straight at Cobb – hitting him square in the nose. Laughter erupted from their row as Cobb frowned, his face red.

The lecturer from battalion shouted at everyone to be quiet.

OOOOOO

Pamphlets had been handed out, warnings for unsolicited whistles and cat calls had been given multiple times, and Alice was getting a headache at the tedious nature of the 'delicate' sex-talk. Sex was sex – plain and simple; there were no secrets here. Frankly, Alice found society's diminutive attitude about sex appalling.

"The doctors on staff would encourage you to _relieve yourself_ , rather than catch something", the battalion member explained over the sniggering in the auditorium.

"Does that rule apply to you too, Ace?" Bill rasped into her ear from behind her.

"I would imagine it does – not that I'd ever need to pay for sex though", she shot back. He chuckled, appreciating the acid in her voice.

The battalion member continued, "Stop your laughing – don't make me show you pictures of the diseases you can get out there".

"Oh God, please don't", Skip whispered, sliding down his seat, Penk giggling next to him.

"That concludes our lecture – please take what I've said today seriously. There's only so much penicillin a medic can carry, after all. Dismissed".

Chairs scraped the floor unceremoniously as everyone in the hall stood up to leave and head to chow. Throngs of troopers pushed their way towards the doors. The scene was a little chaotic, as pamphlets and condoms were flung through the air; men laughing and hooting at one another.

A large Item Company member and his red-faced friend shoved past Alice, and the bigger one pressed something forcefully into her hand, then smacked her ass, _hard_.

"Hey", she called as the trooper jogged off, giggling with his friend, hot on his heels. Confused, she looked down to her hand: the pack of Luckys with her picture on it was crumpled there. "Fuck", she whispered. Like lightening, she shoved it into her pocket and held her journal tighter to her chest, wanting to disappear.

She looked behind her to see if there was a closer exit, and she saw Don with Skip and Penk, joking around and pointing to the pamphlet that had been handed out. Alice tried to swallow the urge to cry as she realized she wanted to go to Don for comfort. Instead, she ducked out the door and ran towards Currahee, putting some distance between her and whoever had found out who she was.

It was late afternoon, supper time, when Alice chose a large tree to sit under and collect herself. She opened her notebook and began sketching the nearby trees, trying to insert as much detail as she possibly could to distract herself.

Try as she might, the nagging in her heart was not letting up. Alice knew she shouldn't be feeling like this – hell, she shouldn't be dealing with this shit. She was training to go to war here; she shouldn't be overwhelmed with worry about what she had run from. She registered then how much power her mother and Robert – and everything back home in Los Angeles – still held over her.

Sniffing, Alice stilled her pencil that was working hard to shade a pinecone, and turned the page.

She stared at the blank paper in front of her. What would she make of her new life? That was why she was here, wasn't it? The war wouldn't last forever. If she made it through, what was her plan to fill her days after it was over?

Move to Paris? New York? Make a quiet life in the country somewhere in England, Ireland…somewhere in Virginia…or maybe Oregon?

Would anyone want to share a life with her?

She pressed her pencil to the paper, appreciating the sound of the tip wearing down as she wrote; likening it to the slide of a ship's hull, sailing away from its harbor.

 _Robert,  
I have wasted many hours chipping away at myself in order to be something you wanted to keep. I have been the shiny trophy on your arm, I have calmed your fears, I have looked the other way when you fancied another, I have even settled a few of your debts.  
When I walked away from you that night, I quit doing all of those things for you.  
Months after, however, I've learned that I did not quit belittling myself, I did not quit hiding from praise or accepting compliments. I discovered that even without you, I was still scared of being happy.  
I am scared of being happy – I don't know what 'happy' really means. I'm scared that you have trained me so damn well, that I will not accept love from anyone else, ever again. Not even from myself.  
You have trained me to think that behind everyone's intentions lies a selfish beast, waiting to take what they want and leave me bleeding. You have trained me to expect ridicule. You have trained me to cringe when another touches me.  
I do not know how to un-learn this. How to do you do that alone? Who would have the patience to house a broken woman? Who would open their heart to me?_

She didn't have the strength to keep going. She did not intend to ever send this to Robert, but it was cathartic to get it onto paper.

She skipped dinner that night – she had no appetite.

OOOOOO

It was late September and the summer heat still wasn't done with Toccoa. The nights were growing cooler, but the days' heat wasn't waning. Training was becoming more grueling – Easy Company was donning full gear and weapons for their daily runs up Currahee, and they had all memorized the training course by now.

Alice could feel sweat trickle down her neck as their C.O. appraised the group.

Sobel stalked towards the front of his company, standing at attention. His eyes sought out Alice and he smirked, "at your last lecture, Battalion suggested you relieve yourselves instead of catching a disease from some barracks rat." He picked up a cardboard box that he had placed at his feet earlier and walked towards Alice, "let me offer some material to help. After all, I need a healthy and capable company." With that, he dumped the box's contents on Alice's boots – fifty or so cartons of Luckys with her image on them tumbled out, littering the ground. "This is you, correct Private?" Alice was concentrating on breathing as not to throw up all over Sobel, who was smugly looking down on her. "Answer the question, McRae".

"Yes sir", she said softly, damning herself for not seeing this coming, internally cursing herself for being so naïve. She could feel the surprise and disbelief from the men surrounding her.

Nearby Don stared down at the discarded cigarette packs. He was stunned. That was Ace, right there - for all to see. He understood now why she would want to keep that a secret - the men around base wouldn't leave her alone now.

"Yes sir…?" Sobel spat.

Don clenched his jaw and watched Alice's shoulders slump ever so slightly, "yes sir…that was me".

Sobel walked even closer, speaking down to her in a low voice so the men couldn't hear, "I'm giving you a reason to leave. Is this enough for you? You don't have a place here." He glared at her, "look at me". Holding her breath, Alice met his gaze, "do you hear me?"

"Yes sir", she whispered, her heart pounding in her ears.

"Dismissed", Sobel called out, then walked away briskly.

The company began to move after a stunned beat, some picking up the cartons off the ground, most of their eyes lingering on Alice. This was not the way she'd imagined her afternoon. Exhausted from training, she didn't want to spend her precious free-time navigating through this revelation with the men.

She willed her boots to move, but her brain was in a frenzy - where would she go? Does she really want to leave? She had promised herself that Sobel wouldn't get the best of her. Would she be forced out? What happens now? She had nowhere to go.

"McRae?" Winters' voice addressed her cautiously. Her eyes skipped to him and she bit her cheek at the tender expression in his face. Lieutenant Nixon stood behind him, curiously studying a pack in his hand. "Are you alright to go back to barracks?"

"Yes sir", she choked out, knowing if there was one person she did not want to disappoint, it was Lieutenant Winters.

He nodded, "I don't care what you left behind to come here - Easy needs you, McRae. You're here for a reason."

"No matter how good a picture you take", Nixon chimed in.

Alice's stomach twisted and Winters shot a look behind him, "…Lew". He turned back to her, "you know where I am if you need anything"

"Thank you sir", she breathed, her legs finally deciding to move as she walked quickly towards barracks, ignoring men's gazes on her.

Don had waited for her outside their door and Alice bristled internally at his expression. "Ace, you ok?" She tried to push past him to get inside, but he held his arm in front, stopping her, "give it just a minute, huh?"

"Let me go", she urged, her eyes desperate on his. He looked worried as he shook his head. Alice glared and pushed past him, barely hearing him call her name. Once she was in, she realized why Don was stalling her. Splayed all over her bed, her trunk, and the ground surrounding her things were packets of the cigarettes and numerous pictures from other photo shoots that had obviously been torn out of magazines. Looking at this, and feeling the ultimate degradation coursing through her, Alice knew right then that she had hit bottom. She could do nothing but drop her head, "is this really fucking happening?" she said to herself as the noise in the barracks came rushing back to her ears.

"So, this is really you, Ace?" someone asked.

"…these pictures are really good".

"I knew she looked familiar".

"God damn, who knew…"

"She can actually shoot too…."

"Who knew Ace was such a looker?"

"..no wonder she's always been so quiet".

"..she cuts quite a figure, hot damn…"

"Shut it, trooper, you don't have a chance with her".

"…so _that's_ why there's a girl in the paratroopers".

"Do you think that's how she got her way in?"

"…fuckin' sniper my ass…"

"Speaking of ass…" their laughter cut through her fragile skin.

"Alice?"

"What?!" she said, at the end of her rope; sick of all the eyes on her, disgusted that they were all so stunned, upset even more that she felt the bubble around her grow larger - she knew the men were now weary then ever - they've got a pin-up as a sniper. "What?" Her eyes were large on Don's face, cringing at his expression, "what do you want?" She felt her lip tremble and her throat grow tight. She would be god damned if she cried in front of them now.

Don didn't know what to say. She was obviously in complete distress. The way she was looking at him, wide-eyed like that… "were you ever going to tell me?" The minute he spoke, he knew he had made a huge mistake.

The breath left her lungs as she glared at him, "do you need me to spell it out for you?" She walked forward, shoving magazine clippings off her trunk as she threw it open. She pulled out a playing card and held it up, looking at Hoobler, "do you remember this?"

"That's my missing card!" he exclaimed.

"With her fuckin' photo on it", Bill drawled, his concerned eyes on Alice's face.

"Cat's out of the bag, so you can have it back", she said, flicking the card to Hoob. She shook her head slightly, speaking to herself "this is…not how it was supposed to happen". She made her way to the door and walked out, Don hot on her heels.

"Ace, come on - none of those guys know what they're talking about", he said.

She stopped and turned to him, "I'm going to ask you a question, and I want you to be honest with me. Do you think I should be here?"

Don knew what she wanted to hear, but he didn't know how to say it, "…you're a hell of a shot…"

"You know what I'm getting at".

Don looked at her seriously and took a breath, "…what we're going to be dropping into is serious; there's a war going on."

"You think I don't know that?"

"No - and I don't want you hurt - it's not right! You're a girl - it's not your job!"

 _There it was._ In the back of Alice's stressed mind, she felt a twisted twinge of satisfaction from Don's confession. "I am so much more than that", she said, her arms out wide, "more than _this_!" she gestured to her body. "In the beginning, no one took the time to really get to know me. They took one look at my tits and ass and decided that's all I was, that I wasn't worth their time if they didn't get to touch them. Fuck that." At his silence, she shook her head - knowing her anger wasn't entirely misdirected, but still unable to dismiss her guilt.

"Alice…"

"If I was invisible and could put on the uniform and shoot as well as I do, and run as well as I do and all of that…none of them would care _who_ was under the screaming eagle patch. As long as I can save your ass out there in the field from some Nazi fuck, then you shouldn't care what parts I have, goddamnit".

Don nodded, "I know all of this - we all know. We just worry…"

"Please don't", she interrupted, "I've dealt with all this shit before, and then some. I'm fuckin' fine." She began to walk away then, "just let me shoot, alright? Let me do what I'm good at - what the brass have _asked_ me to do…go back to ignoring me if you have to".

 **Please tell me what you think!  
I've got another one on the way!**

 **Thank you for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Band of Brothers' – the miniseries or the book – nor do I intend ANY disrespect to the real men of Easy Company. All that is mine is Alice McRae and a deep, profound respect for the real heroes.**

 **A big THANK YOU to everyone who has read, reviewed, or followed my story. I really appreciate it xoxo**

 **I sincerely hope everyone has been well and in good health & spirits. Please forgive my absence.  
**

"Your mother has been served with a cease and desist order. The process for eviction will take much longer, but I am here for the long-haul, Miss McRae", the man over the phone spoke confidently, "if you have no other questions for me at this time, we can conclude this session?"

"Yes, we're finished for today. Thank you, Mr. Goodman", Alice spoke evenly in her practiced tone, "have a nice afternoon". She hung up the receiver in the camp's phone booth and took a deep breath.

She had phoned her old lawyer and reemployed him a week after recovering from being found out in camp. If she had learned anything, it was that she couldn't control everything – but she _could_ control how she responded. She needed to protect herself and her assets – and that not only meant her apartment in Los Angeles, or her money – but also her professional photos and likeness. Her mother wouldn't be given the chance to sell her portraits again, not without her consent.

As much as it pained her, recovering her confidence also meant removing her mother from her apartment. It was Alice's name on the lease, Alice's property tax, and Alice paid the bill every month. She couldn't have her mother leeching off of her anymore – and if that meant taking legal action, so be it. It was a hard pill to swallow, but necessary.

OOOOOO

A few weeks had gone by since Alice's past was found out and the men around camp had not stopped watching her.

Don watched her too. But it was different then how all the others gawked. He watched her and saw the men look her now, study her body. He fucking hated it. He hated that they stared at something and they didn't know the worth.

'Get your eyes off her', he thought to himself, 'you don't get to look when you don't appreciate what she is'. But he never said his thoughts. In his past, he had been guilty of ogling pretty women…Alice was different though somehow, much different.

Inwardly, Don cursed himself for not standing up for her when they got back to barracks that afternoon. Why hadn't he protected her? He was scared, not to mention shocked as well…but he knew that was to blame, and he couldn't forgive himself for it.

When Don had first met Alice in the bar, before her first day at Toccoa, he thought he'd recognized her from something. He just couldn't put his finger on it. When Sobel dumped the packs of Luckys on her, and Don saw the pinup printed on the pack, he was stunned. Alice, Easy's own Alice McRae, was the drop-dead pinup looking sexily over her shoulder on the pack of smokes.

Don knew then exactly who she was. Hell, he had coveted Hoobler's pin-up card deck _simply because_ the Queen of Spades was his favorite card…little did he know the Queen of Spades was sleeping in the bunk next to him the whole time.

What upset him the most wasn't that she hadn't told him, he understood damn well why she had kept that a secret. He was upset that the men in other companies didn't know where to draw the line. Since being found out, she had been solicited for autographs multiple times, her photo in magazines passed around camp, the wolf-whistles and cat-calls only grew worse, and now every man who smoked made sure they had _her_ pack in the pocket of their Class B's.

…and Don was powerless to stop it.

What he could do, was walk her to and from showers at nights, which he did; make sure she had company at chow, which he did with Skip and Penk; and try to keep things normal, which he also did by asking her to help him with his aim on his M1. If he thought she was hiding before, he was a fool.

She kept them all at arm's-length now.

OOOOOO

"You don't want to wound him, you want to kill him!" their hand-to-hand combat instructor, Lieutenant Gill, took the company through exhausting drills that afternoon, "who wants to show us how it's done?".

Alice had been paired with Liebgott – lucky for the height similarity, unfortunate for his dislike for her. She had been trying to keep her head down and work, she was not in the mood to get called out again. Thanks to Lieb, however, her patience was being tested today.

The entire battalion had been on edge since the announcement of an intended march to Atlanta in the coming weeks. Since then, training had been geared toward morale – and Lieutenant Gill was allowing the men to blow off some steam.

However, Lieutenant Gill, who was chummy with Sobel, had been egging Lieb on all afternoon. Alice was managing to hold her own; the exertion was getting to them, and Gill's jabs at Lieb's masculinity was _not_ improving his mood…or his attitude toward Alice.

"Think you got what it takes?" Lieb sniggered at her arrogantly, Cobb and Skinny laughed quietly nearby.

About to retort, Lieutenant Gill beat her to the punch, "thank you for volunteering, Liebgott. McRae, Liebgott - both of you, up front now."

"God damnit", Don breathed out, his arms heavy from lunging with a bayonet for the past two hours.

Beside him, Skip and Penkala shook their heads. "She can't catch a break", Skip whispered.

"Here's your time to shine, doll face", Toye rasped as she gripped her rifle and walked forward.

"Not if I have anything to say about it", Lieb insisted. Alice shared a brief, darkened look with Don.

"If he does real damage, I'm gonna kick his face in", Don muttered, disbelieving that he was going to have to watch this.

"Knock it off. Get into position", Lieutenant Gill ordered, his hand held out in between Joe and Alice. Alice kept her breathing paced as she outright glared at Lieb and leaned over and down slightly.

Lieutenant Gill gave the order to begin with a flick of his wrist. Joe lunged at her and she was ready for him. Using all of her weight, she held her rifle in front of her, blocking his intended strike. Staying in a defensive position, Alice balanced herself as Joe lunged again. Grunting, she shoved him off her. Using the butt of his rifle, he struck her right bicep and Alice hissed in pain.

"He's got her beat in weight, but she's holding her own", Penk offered.

"She's just going to have to tire him out", Skip nodded.

Don kept quiet, his jaw clenched and remembering what Bill had said her first day at camp: _how hard do you think it will be to watch her get beat up by all of this?...do you think it's gonna get any easier to watch when it's bullets flying by and not Sobel's threats?_ Bill had been right; this was hard to watch…and it was merely an exercise.

"You ready to give up?" Joe asked her tauntingly, "I'd hate to wreck that pretty face of yours".

"If you think I'm scared, you're dumber than I thought", she fired back.

Alice was getting tired, she could tell Joe was too by the sound of his labored breathing. Managing to strike him back several times, Alice felt she was holding her own pretty good. Lieb had a very short temper…with a day full of running and drills – on top of Gill riding him – it was no wonder he was pent up with rage. Why Gill directed Lieb's rage onto her was the real question.

In the face of Joe's intense and raw anger, she imagined if this situation were real and overseas. Truth be told, she was thankful to be a sniper.

Pushing through the anxiety, Alice lunged toward Joe, catching him off guard by knocking his rifle from his grasp and pushing him to the ground. The men around her began cheering and Alice took that as the end of the bout…but Joe had other plans.

He ripped her rifle from her hands, sending it flying into the group of men surrounding them, "I'm not done with you yet", he announced.

"I think you are!" Don called out over the ruckus and going ignored, even by Alice - who now had a pointed glare directed fully on Joe.

Incensed by his misplaced wrath, Alice readied herself, knowing Lieutenant Gill would not stop this – she was by herself. "Any day now, princess".

"Holy shit", Bill drawled. Don was beside himself, looking helplessly to Lieutenant Gill – who was completely content with allowing this fist fight. It occurred to Don then that Sobel and his inner circle might by looking for any way to get rid of Alice once and for all.

Alice and Joe were breathless and tired as Joe lunged first again, blinded by his anger – grabbing Alice by the collar and trying to throw her to the ground. She held onto the sleeves of his shirt and swung her right arm with everything she had, hitting him hard on his ear.

Around them, the company cheered, gathering the attention of passing companies on leave for the weekend. Soon there was a small crowd.

"I got five dollars on the skinny guy", some private from Dog company called out.

"I see your five for the pin-up", someone else countered.

Don took a huge step toward the circle to break it up as Skip grabbed his arm, "don't". He simply said, nodding over to the right. Don followed his eye line and saw Sobel calmly watching the impromptu fight after walking up, "she'll never forgive you".

"I'll never forgive myself for letting this happen", Don spat back heatedly.

"None of us will, this has gone too far", Bill agreed.

Joe got his arm around Alice and threw her to the ground to a few cheers. But before he could jump on her, Alice kicked her leg out and connected with his inner thigh – very close to his manhood. Joe recoiled and fell down immediately, Alice climbed on top and landed two punches before being pulled off.

"Jesus, McRae!" Joe yelled.

"Go fuck yourself, Liebgott!" Alice shot back, Bull's hands holding her in place. Both troopers were red in the face and breathing hard.

"Show's over! Everyone clear out!" Gill called out over the throng of troopers, "back to your barracks! Now!"

"Can you stand up?" Lip asked to Lieb, who groaned and nodded his head, his chest heaving.

Bull's voice came from behind her, "if I let you go, are you gonna go after him again?"

Breathing hard, Alice shook her head, "no, I'm not".

"Can't say I'd blame you, girl", he offered as he gently let go of her arm.

Dragging a head through her hair, Alice tried to catch her breath and assess what had just happened. She'd let Sobel and his buddy Gill get the best of her. She could safely assume if Joe had gotten more of a hand on her, she'd be dismissed from Toccoa, and maybe the paratroopers altogether. She wasn't going to give them the opportunity - she was going to do her best to make it to the final jump and be pinned a United States Paratrooper.

"Ace?" Don, breathless, came up to her then, "Jesus, Ace, you ok?"

"I'm fine", she assured, taken by his state of worry, "just fine".

"McRae?" Alice turned to see Joe standing before them, "no hard feelings?"

Don studied Alice's contemplative face as she took a deep breath, "no hard feelings".

OOOOOO

When Don and Alice had their 'training sessions' on the firing range, she didn't speak up a whole lot anymore and it broke Don's heart. She would smirk if he told a joke, but other than that, she was back to how she was when she first started. Back at square one. Easy Company men, however, had done an impressive job at keeping the Toccoa drama at bay. Every man had respected Alice's boundaries and allowed her space. Don only hoped that their treatment would make the Alice he'd come to know, come back to them.

"Am I getting any better, or am I bullshitting myself?" Don asked squinting over his rifle at the target in the distance.

Beside him, Alice studied the wind playing on the grass of the field, "you just have to keep at it. Your aim is getting better, but it's not like riding a bike – it's something you have to work on constantly".

A few minutes went by in silence before he shot off a couple rounds. "Hot damn, I think I got close to the center with that last shot", he said.

Alice focused on the target and nodded, "I think you're right". She'd been in a tunnel-like daze since she was found-out, not to mention being the target of Sobel's efforts to get rid of her. She tried to keep her head on and devote her time to focus on her shooting, which was only getting better.

She had entered new territory - she had gained some respect for her fight with Joe.

Truth-be-told, physical fighting had been a revelation of stress-relief for her. But try as she might, through it all, she couldn't outrun what she had said to Don in anger the night she was found out. Her anxiety over it all had become her main distraction.

She looked to his figure, the olive color of their OD's growing darker with the fading sun. Her heart thudded bitter-sweetly, Don had been a silent companion since the 'event' and since the fight…and she didn't know how to begin to apologize for what she had said out of fear and anger.

"Hell, do you think Sobel will make me expert sniper now? I'm not as good as you or Shift, but I'm happy to say that now Skip can't hold a candle to me", Don joked as he removed the empty clip. For the past few times they'd gone to the range, he'd done most of the talking and her heart tugged uncomfortably.

Alice was quiet for a few moments, "Don?" he turned to her as she spoke softly, "…I'm sorry for directing my anger at you that night. It wasn't fair of me".

"Hey", he sat up straighter and shifted towards her, "I would've done the same". He studied her face, her dark eyes that were on him, "I'm sorry I didn't say something when we were all in barracks…"

"It's not your job to say anything", Alice began.

Don corrected her firmly, "I told you before – you're one of us. Just because you take the best damn picture out of the entire USO doesn't mean squat".

Alice softly half-laughed, half-scoffed at his statement, "be serious".

"I _am_ serious", he affirmed with a nod of his head, "You're an expert sniper for Company E…who just happens to be a gorgeous pinup. No big deal".

Alice was thankful that the sunlight was waning, as her cheeks were now reddened, "not a big deal, huh?"

Don didn't want to come across like the other men in camp who were smitten with her. He swallowed and shrugged, trying to remain unaffected, "Nah…I understand why you didn't say anything, though. Guys can get a little wonky around women – especially if they are honest-to-God pinups".

"Jesus", Alice laughed, relieved that she felt the weight of the last couple weeks begin to lift off her shoulders. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you", she offered.

"You don't need to be sorry…and I don't know why everyone cares anyway, it's none of our business", Don shook his head. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop the fight between you and Lieb".

Alice shrugged, "there was nothing you can do."

The silence settled between them once again, this time it was mutually awkward…and Alice frowned at herself; it felt like they were back at square one and she blamed herself for that. "Can I ask who was on the phone that night in the pub?" His voice was soft as he reviewed her expression and looked down to her hand, "how's that hand of yours?" Her eyes shot up to his and he nodded, "yeah, I saw you punch the wall".

She bit her lip, "hand's fine." She avoided his eye line now, "I didn't realize you saw that". Don remained quiet, he didn't know what to say. Alice appreciated his pensive silence, deciding that for the moment she was done hiding – she would let her chips fall as they may. "It was my mother on the phone, telling me that she called my old agent to get my photo on packs of Lucky Strikes."

Don was at a loss, once again, "Jesus, Ace."

"Is there anything wrong with your family that we can talk about for a change?" She attempted to joke.

"Apart from a couple drunk uncles, not much. I think you've got me beat".

"Shit", she mumbled sarcastically, dragging a hand through her short hair.

Don watched her and after a beat admitted something he didn't realize until now, "I do have to say…that I like your hair better like this".

"Better than how it looked in the pictures…long?"

He nodded, "yep. It suits you".

She smirked, then continued solemnly after, "so what do I do now?"

"Go to dinner I guess".

"No, I meant in front of the company. I don't know how to behave. After the pictures, the fight… I don't know what they expect."

He shrugged, "you keep being you. You're one of us".

She nodded, pulling at her hands for a second before sighing. There was an itch to divulge something else, to get a reaction from Don. She gave into the impulse as she looked right at him, "I lied to you."

He squinted his eyes as he looked back at her, "about what?

"I didn't have a boyfriend in Los Angeles…I had a fiancé." She objectively studied his face and was disappointed when he didn't react, "shouldn't that be despicable?" He shrugged. "I broke things off and left him the night I left for basic. I haven't spoken to him since." Nothing but silence. Understanding. Alice was now only disgusted with herself. "I don't even know if my father's alive, let alone still in Boston. And I just evicted my mother from my apartment back in Los Angeles. Does that make you hate me now?"

"No", he said simply, "you've had a hell of a ride for a young person, Ace. I don't blame you for any of the stuff you've done. Makes sense to me".

He was unshakable; it pissed her off. After a beat, she confessed one more thing, "I wrote the dirty stories".

Don looked up at her from his canteen, a huge grin on his face " _I knew it_ ".

Looking at this smile, she couldn't help the smirk that spread over her face, "You can't tell anyone; I could get into trouble for circulating contraband, you know".

"Your secret is safe with me", he crossed his heart with his finger and winked.

"Along with all of my others", she joked lightly.

 **Thank you for reading. I am working on the next chapter - so please tell me how you got on with this one - it's much appreciated.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Band of Brothers' – the miniseries or the book – nor do I intend ANY disrespect to the real men of Easy Company. All that is mine is Alice McRae and deep, profound respect for the real heroes.**

 **Long-time, no-see everyone! I hope this update finds you all well. My laptop was horrifically out of commission and I finally got a new one! It's a total beauty AND (more importantly) it's allowed me to write and post again!**

 **I sincerely appreciate everyone's continued interest in this story – and I'm loving hearing what you think about Alice and Don. Keep filling me in on your opinions!**

Don had been looking for her all afternoon.

As a company, they had been preparing for their final jump – plus the long awaited ceremony for their wings. Sink had also promised that they would have beer and music at the party as well. Don knew why Alice had made herself scarce the past week – the brass were going to be taking the confirmed snipers through a field test soon. The pressure was on Ace to put her money where her mouth was – this time in front of all the top brass.

Eventually, he found her – tucked away in a dusty, dark and cold projection room with her sitting on top of a desk, looking raptly at the screen. "So this is where you've been", he whistled as he walked in and closed the door behind him.

She didn't turn from the flickering picture as she responded with a smirk on her face, "I should've known better than to think I'd be left alone in here. I can't ever manage hide from you, can I?"

"What'cha watchin'?" he smiled, ignoring her comment, "anything dirty?" He frowned as he studied the screen, men in foreign uniforms shot off rifles systematically at targets. "Russian soldiers? What gives?"

"Russian _snipers_ ; best in the world".

Silently, Don admired her pretty face, illuminated by the light. He recognized the harsh language coming from the film, "why is it in German?"

"The Krauts actually show these tapes to their snipers – it's dubbed in German." Alice turned to Don then, "they use the footage to train their men. See, the United States doesn't have its own official sniper division, not yet – we just assign sniper duties based on abilities." Her gaze flicked back to the action, "I want to be the best, so I've got to learn from the best."

Don appreciated her iron resolve, but in his mind he thought she already was the best in the state of Georgia. But her intensity was colored with a difference this time – something was different about her study. Looking back to the tape, he eyed the Soviet's rifles, "What kind of weapon are they using?"

"This was filmed in 1935…so they're probably using the seven-point-sixty-two millimeter Mosin sniper rifle…but I'll be trusting my M1. I also have a Springfield nineteen-oh-three, but regiment probably won't let me use it."

"Why, is the Springfield better?"

"It has the ability to load a single shot round at a time, which makes the weight of the rifle stay exactly the same – no need to readjust your aim based on weight loss from spending shells. It's a little better for long distance shooting, considering I'm refusing to use my scope." She caught him frowning at that, "the glass reflects light…I can't have someone spot that – my cover would be blown."

Don appreciated her pensive profile – she certainly knew her shit. "It's a good thing the Russians are on our side, huh?"

Alice nodded, "oh yes – the talent they have is impressive. One guy has over four hundred-fifty confirmed kills – no joke".

"Jesus", Don turned back to the screen as Alice spoke.

"Snipers aren't just there to pick off men manning grenade launchers and leftovers after a battle. Snipers alone advanced the Russian army over the Germans in 1941 and into this year. The German's loss of commanders was devastating and that was just the Russian snipers alone." Growing animated, she gestured to the screen, "If a unit lacks enough infantry weapons, a talented sniper company can pin it down all day."

"So you'll have all our backs out there?"

"You bet your ass I will", she nodded, then shrugged imperceptivity, "if they let me".

Don laughed, "you're a shoe-in for sniper, you already passed the qualifying test!"

Alice felt a punch in her gut. It was only a matter of time before one of her last secrets came out. Shouldering this particular one had been getting in the way of her concentration as of late. Taking a breath, she looked up from the film and into Don's pensive face, "you might as well know now – I'm not _officially_ cleared to travel overseas."

He was perplexed, "what do you mean? You're here, you've been through all the same training as us – we're making our final jumps in two days!"

"I was accepted into Toccoa for training only", she revealed, trying to overlook Don's rising brow. "Sink never fully cleared me for active duty. I've been waiting every day since for him to change his mind…I was starting to worry. But then I got this the other day", she handed over a folded, typed note from Sink's personal desk.

Don read: ' _Private Alice McRae, this official document is to inform you that you are to be evaluated as a potential sniper for Easy Company at the Battalion Sniper Challenge. While this exercise is regarded as sniper qualification for active duty members, this will also be utilized as a test for your active duty service for the 101_ _st_ _. Pass, and you will be eligible for your paratrooper pin. Fail, and you will be stationed here at Camp Toccoa until further orders. Best of luck to you, Colonel Sink._ '

Don looked up at her from the note, "you mean to tell me you've been training for _fun_ this whole time?"

Alice shook her head, a fierce gleam in her eye, "hell no – I've been training for this _exact chance_ this whole time."

Don didn't respond now that he knew she wasn't even clear to travel overseas. He didn't know how to without offending her. She could shoot, she could endure, and she had kept up with the company since she joined them. It wasn't her abilities that he had a problem with…why was it that only _now_ thathis stomach turned at the thought of her in danger?

Behind her the reel finished, the room dimmed and the sound of the film slapping the empty wheel punctuated the silence. Alice flicked it off easily, her eyes not leaving his furrowed brow.

Cautiously, Don accented the peace by re-folding Sink's note and handing it back to Alice.

She went to pull it back but Don's fingers still grasped it, causing her to look into his concerned face, "I know you think you're alone in all of this – you aren't, you got me, you've got Easy." He swallowed, unsure of how she was going to react to his opinion; not even sure how he was going to express it, "I just think you should re-think all of this…"

"Don, please", she gently interrupted him, "we've come too far for you to go stepping into shit now".

"What do you mean?" he narrowed his eyes at her.

She slipped off the desk and stood in front of him, "you were about to tell me that you think I should stay behind".

He took a large step toward her, disbelieving that she was calling his sympathies out, "yeah, and?"

She took a second to admire his face; he never got this close to her when they were in front of others – not even when they were alone. "And I appreciate your worries, I appreciate that you care enough to say so…but my place is with Easy. I belong with the company – wherever you end up."

Frowning, he shook his head, "We may not come back from this", he whispered, hating how cliché he sounded.

"I'm prepared for that ", she came back calmly.

He looked imploringly into her dark eyes, unable to ignore the steady thudding of his heart. "You could get hurt", he couldn't believe he'd actually said it out loud. Damn impulsiveness.

"So could you", she responded tenderly. His gaze lazily explored her face and she felt the breath leave her lungs. This felt like intimacy. The energy of the room had changed into something undulant. She could feel the heat of his body urge her closer, as his eyes skipped around her face. Alice didn't know where this was heading, nor would she allow herself to make a mistake with her friendship with Don. She needed to diffuse this, "that's why I need to jump with you – someone's got to watch your back". Then she turned from his protective warmth and walked towards the door. He watched as she opened it and looked to him, "shall we?"

Like someone had let the air back into the room, Don took a measured breath. This feeling of vulnerability while in her presence was new to him since he'd grown to know her. Sure, the attraction was there – it had been there since he bought her that drink the first time they met…but now their predicament was drastically different. It left him shaky and unsure – he didn't like it. "When's the sniper exercise?" he asked firmly, his hands in fists.

"Tomorrow", she answered, her hands jammed deep in her pockets.

OOOOOO

"I'd like to be the first to welcome all you men here today to the Battalion Sniper Challenge", Colonel Sink addressed the troopers standing at attention before the vast space of the shooting range, "to the riflemen who will be attempting qualification today, good luck to you. Major Laverne here will give you your ground rules". The Colonel nodded at the separate grouping of ten snipers and stepped back.

"As you can see, there are twenty viable targets strategically placed out in the field to assess your aim and ability. What you don't see easily are the ten _additional_ targets that have been hidden from obvious view. This is to simulate the position of enemy snipers and how well you can spot them." Alice reviewed the field in front of them. It was vast – nearly like a valley. Behind them were tall trees, the grass then followed small rolling hills – more trees flanked the field with large bales of hay placed strategically here and there. It would certainly be a challenge. "Lastly, to replicate the pressure of battle, blank rounds will be fired at you."

The line of men began to grumble in response. "God damn", Alex whispered beside Don.

Major Laverne continued, "For every ten blanks fired at you, you will be considered compromised and you must change positions. If you get up to twenty blanks fired, you will be considered 'hit'. These blanks will be fired based on your position, timing, and success at hitting your targets." Major Laverne stopped walking and stared at the snipers, "your life depends on your aim. Fail, and you will be a casualty. Best of luck."

Next to her, Alice heard Shifty take a deep breath. Her eyes sought out Don in the crowd, he nodded at her slightly; beside him, Skip and Alex looked nervous.

Colonel Sink began reading the names out, calling a man forward one-by-one.

Six riflemen in, and no one had completed the challenge successfully.

Alice began absent mindedly chewing on the inside of her cheek. These men were getting 'shot' at so quickly – and it all had to do with their cover. They were positioning themselves in line with infantrymen – which would not only get their comrades killed, but it raises the chance of friendly-fire…and no one could possibly see the lay of the land from behind a bale of hay.

"Powers, Donald!"

"Go get 'em, Shifty, you got this", Alice whispered as he nodded, gripped his rifle and walked to the start line.

POP!

The sound of the lone blank fire marked the start of the challenge. Shifty immediately ran forward and took a knee yards behind a bale of hay. Managing to fire multiple rounds and hit multiple targets from one spot, Shift was doing a great job.

At the end of his time, Shifty had hit all visible targets and seventy percent of the 'hidden' snipers, only being 'shot-at' nine times.

Standing alone now in front of the entire Camp, at what felt like hours later, Alice was the last trooper called. By then, only Shifty and one other trooper from Able had qualified.

"McRae, Alice!"

Hearing some cat-calls and laughing, she blocked it out, choosing instead to hear Easy's collective voice cheer her on.

This was it.

Everything – the chance she had been waiting for since the moment she stepped foot in Georgia. Hell…since she had signed up for basic…the moment was finally here.

She took her mark at the starting position and thought of her father – would he be proud of her if he could see her now? What the hell would her mother think of all this?

 _Focus_ …before the starting shot, Alice had already picked out nine of the ten targets…and she had an idea of how to see the rest and remain untouched.

Alice took a measured breath, focusing on the breeze swirling around her, the weight of her pack, the well-oiled rifle in her hand, and the long shadows cast in the field. What happened here right now would determine whether she would join Easy or not overseas.

She had to make this count.

 _Breathe._

POP!

Instead of running forward like all the others had done, Alice ran sideways and straight to a large tree at the top of the hill.

"I think your pin-up is confused!" some ass in Fox Company hollered out.

"What the hell is she doing" Skip breathed.

Don watched as Alice began swiftly climbing, "she's getting an eagle's eye view". He grinned as she got to the top in no time and brought her rifle up to her eye.

Immediately, she began popping off rounds, an orderly calling off her direct hits one by one.

"She's a beast", Toye muttered.

"That 'a girl, Ace", Bill laughed.

From her position in the tree, Alice managed to hit all but one of the hidden sniper targets and all but two of the main targets. That's when the blanks began firing over her head.

 _Position compromised_ – Alice deftly skipped down the tree and ran forward, taking a knee in the field, quickly eliminating the last two main targets before time was called.

"Time!"

Breathing in time with her heart, Alice slowly lowered her weapon and stood up at attention, facing Colonel Sink, who stood looking at her intensely.

After a prolonged beat, he nodded once, "Private McRae…you have passed the challenge", he announced. Easy Company exploded in cheers before getting shushed by Sobel. Alice hid her smile and began walking towards her company when Sink approached her. "You're a hell of a shot, kid. We're gonna need you on our side overseas".

"Yes, sir", Alice answered whole-heartedly.

"Good job", Sink dismissed her.

She made it to Easy, happily ignoring the stinging from the men patting her hardily on her back.

Shifty met her in the middle, "looks like it's you and me, Ace", he grinned, offering her his hand.

"I wouldn't have it any other way", she shook his hand, grinning back at him. 

OOOOOO

"Annie fucking Oakley, everyone", Bill toasted her, a beer raised in his hand.

"That's the fifth time you've said that, you know", Alice laughed.

Hoobler scooted closer to her then, smiling, "say, what's your middle name, Ace?"

"What kind of question is that, Hoob?" Skip quirked.

"Just curious".

"I always get shit for my middle name", Alice shook her head, "my mother, she's …interesting, to say the least."

"You're gonna have to tell us now", Alex prodded.

"Ten bucks it's Winston", Skip called out.

"Ivy", she said, "Alice Ivy McRae".

Bill smirked, "hmm, I get the feeling there's a story there".

Don laughed aloud, "your initials spell 'Aim'".

"Shit, you're right!" Luz exclaimed.

"Shit, we're out of beer", Hoolber mocked, "come on Luzzy, it's our round".

Alice saddled up to Don's side as the men took to laughing among themselves, "I know what you were trying to say the other day…and I know this isn't what you wanted…"

"Doesn't matter what I want", he said easily. Turning to her, he clinked her glass with his, "here's to your million-dollar shot, Ace…may it save our asses over there".

"Cheers", she smiled back at him.

 **Please let me know what you think. Next chapter in the works.**

 **xoxoxo**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Band of Brothers' – the miniseries or the book – nor do I intend ANY disrespect to the real men of Easy Company. All that is mine is Alice McRae and deep, profound respect for the real heroes.**

 **Long-time, no-see everyone! I hope this update finds you all well.**

 **I sincerely appreciate everyone's continued interest in this story – and I'm loving hearing what you think about Alice and Don. Keep filling me in on your opinions!**

"I bet you think you got away with this", Sobel paced down the single row of cots in the barracks, his eyes darting accusingly at the troopers standing by each cot at attention. Liebgott's comic books, Tab's collection of condoms, Baseball caps, non-issued belts, socks, and personal letters littered the floor. The C.O. stopped his pacing, "Camp entertainment not cutting the mustard for you, McRae?" Her heart stuttered at the use of her name.

"Sir?" She answered warily, feeling the room's eyes on her.

Tattered papers were suddenly thrust under her nose – copies of her handwritten smut stories, "I thought the mountain of prophylactics were obscene – but these were a treat to read." Alice dreadfully wondered if someone snitched her out as her throat constricted in anxiety… "Care to confess? Your punishment will be lesser if you fess up, I can assure you." Her heart began to pound at his teasing tone. This was a set-up. She knew damn well that a confession on her part meant Sobel would have the power to stop her from going overseas, he could stop her from making her final jump…hell, he could kick her out of the company altogether. She clenched her jaw and chose to remain silent, her gaze focused on the dark wall across from her. The men were now eyeing her with surprise once again as Sobel shouted loudly, "Contraband!" He rolled the stack of papers up and shoved them into his back pocket as he turned on Alice, "My orderlies should thank you for these…they thoroughly enjoyed them. You, however, will be enjoying nothing as long as I'm C.O. of this company. All of your weekend passes are hereby revoked until we ship out".

The resounding quiet was deafening; Alice was at a loss for words…it could potentially be _years_ until they ship out to see action….but any punishment Sobel would dole out was better than a dishonorable discharge.

"I wrote them, sir". Don's voice cut through the stuffy silence confidently.

Alice sucked in a breath and her eyes darted to him. His head was held high – not an ounce of fear on his face. Sobel rounded on him, surprise glowed in his twisted features, "Private Bullshit – I didn't think you had it in you. Quite the imagination…you say you wrote these?"

"Sir, yes sir", Don responded. Beside him, Alice dug her nails into her palm – she wasn't about to let him take her punishment.

"HA!" Sobel laughed aloud, turning around to jeer with his orderlies, who lined the back wall.

" _Don_ ", Alice hushed quickly, her eyes on Sobel's back. Don didn't flinch; he ignored her completely, his jaw set.

"I must say I am impressed", Sobel chuckled lightly, "In that case, one of your weekend passes is cancelled, Malarkey".

"Sir, yes Sir", Don answered.

"Easy Company, you'll spend the rest of the afternoon cleaning up the mess in your barracks!"

"Sir, yes Sir!" The Company called out.

"As you were", Sobel lazily commanded as he stalked out, his orderlies in tow.

As soon as Sobel was out of sight, Alice rounded on Don – and the entire Company broke out into laughter and shouts.

"Are you crazy?" Alice's question was drowned out in the cheers from the rest of the men, who descended onto Don.

"You crazy fool!" Skip called out, grabbing Don in a headlock.

"Get a load of Hemingway over here, huh?" Tab laughed, clapping a hand on Don's back.

"There is no way in hell you wrote those damn things", Bill scoffed.

"He copped to it, you heard him", Toye rasped, saddling up beside Alice and throwing an arm over her shoulder, "What do you ya think, Ace?"

"I think he's full of shit", Alice responded under her breath, disbelieving that he'd just saved her from a dismissal from the Army altogether. Toye smirked in response, seemingly agreeing with a giddy sigh.

"Who's up for a game of darts, boys?" Perco retrieved the stolen board and darts from a hidden panel in the nearby dresser.

Don walked up to Alice as the men gathered to play darts and clean up their trunks and cots. He studied Alice's face, her cheeks were flushed and her hands were still in fists by her side. Anyone could blatantly tell that she wasn't easily distracted with a dart game…he'd have to change that.

"You didn't have to do that", she whispered earnestly.

"Are you kidding?" He hushed, grabbing her hand, "Of course I did…who else am I going to drink beer with on our weekend passes?" Don held her gaze as she examined his casual expression. She bit her lip in thought and Don chuckled, "Hey – it's ok…you don't always have to be so serious about everything, you know?"

She wondered idly if he knew what he had just saved her from, "Don…"

He squeezed her hand before letting it go, "I'd do anything for you, kid. It's as simple as that." He winked, "now say 'thank you' and let's have a game of darts, huh?"

She allowed his charm to work its intended magic; she smiled fully and impulsively placed her hands on his jaw and looked imploringly into his wide brown eyes, "Thank you". She laughed openly at his pink cheeks – a weight lifting off her; she threw her arms around his neck, mutely noting that his shoulders felt much broader than they looked, "Thank you, Malark".

"Anytime, Ace", he laughed his hands winding around her waist, noting bashfully that this was the first time he had held her close.

OOOOOO

"Six okay!"

Alice felt the familiar pressure of Bill's hand patting her packs roughly before smacking her ass and screaming into her ear, "Five okay!"

Reaching forward, she checked Alex over quickly before giving his bum a whack, "Four okay!"

The intense noise and vibrations of the plane's engines drowned out the remaining count-offs, but she knew they were called out by the give of the hook-up rope and the slant of the men's shoulders. Feet shuffled ever so slightly, everyone's eyes lingered on the red light…trying to remember to breathe, despite the thick smell of the fuel and the hot canvas jump vests…waiting for the light to turn green.

Alice tried to burn this memory into her brain. Her final jump before being pinned…not only pinned as a Paratrooper….but pinned as an equal; an equal in her Company. She had _earned_ this, in every sense of the word.

Red switched to Green – and Alice welcomed the recognizable spike of adrenaline in her stomach at the sight.

"Go! Go! Go!" Lieutenant Winters called out evenly, breaking the persistent hum of the engines.

The group moved as one, right foot then left, as they moved toward the wide open door of the plane. Before Alice could register Bill's hand on her shoulder, she was air-born.

No matter how many times she'd completed a jump, it was the _noise_ that never ceased to impress her. Sure, the height was impressive, as was the view – but in an abstract way…you are entirely too taken by the sensation of flying to logically assess how high up you were.

It was something in the way that the silk chute fluttered against the wind, and the sharp 'tings' of the straps and clasps on her pack jostling…the way that the symphony of these combined noises blended together as quickly as it took to land on the grass field below; perhaps it was the simple fact that she was one of the very few to have had the experience of jumping out of a plane…but, it never got old.

Dropping down from the heavens like a raindrop, the surge of euphoria and wonder was the best side effect of being a paratrooper – mankind was truly a remarkable thing…to be able to harness the elements and achieve this.

She shifted her weight as she anticipated the landing. With her posture straight and her hands gripping the chute straps, she felt the ground greet the soles of her jump boots easily. She grinned unabashedly to herself as her chute wafted around her like deflating wings. Perfect landing.

Penk jogged by with Malark, who winked at her. "Like a God damned ballerina", Penk teased.

"One of these days, you're gonna fall…and I'm going to be there laugh at you," Skip rasped as Alice put away her chute and caught up to her guys.

"I only fall when I'm drunk", Alice laughed.

"You know, you missed a romantic opportunity there, Skip", George quipped.

"Oh did he?" Don quirked his eyebrow back at George and smirked at Alice.

George barked, "It should have been: One of these days, you're gonna fall and I'm going to be there to _ **catch you**_ …see? Obvious".

Skip scoffed and spoke to Alice behind him, "I never make a pass at a taken woman; call me old fashioned".

In front of them, Don heard Skip's bantering and frowned. _Taken woman_? A dark fog rolled into his head at the thought and wasn't quick to dissipate…he thought Ace was single. Did it matter to him that she wasn't? He kept the pace of his jog, but couldn't ignore the kick to his gut.

Alice frowned, _taken woman_? What the hell was he playing at? Skip looked over to Alice as she fell into a jog beside him. He quickly chanced a glance over to Don's back and shrugged jokingly. Her cheeks burned at Skip's teasing…he couldn't really know her feelings for Don, could he? Was she that transparent?

"You're insane", she scoffed under her breath and glared at his smug grin. If she were being obvious, she'd have to watch her behavior. Not everyone was as 'teasing' as Skip.

"If I'm insane, you're completely bat-shit crazy", he muttered back.

OOOOOO

"Dance with me", Toye muttered to her in his trademark husky voice.

"Is that allowed?" she asked as a reaction. Joe quirked a dark brow at her and she quickly amended, "That's not a 'no' – I was just curious".

Around them, newly pinned Paratroopers milled around boisterously – beers in everyone's hand. The autumn night occasionally blew a welcomed chill into the crowded and warm hall. The music blared through a shiny record player – no doubt the property of the good Colonel himself.

"I don't see why it wouldn't be", Joe smirked and put his beer down on the nearby bar top.

Alice caught George's grin out of the corner of her eye, "We're both wearing trousers", she offered. It was a lame 'excuse', sure – but this was the first time any man in the company had performed a "traditionally masculine" gesture towards her…in the dating-sense of the term. Until now, she'd been treated like a kid sister. Alice frowned at herself: men dance with their sisters all the time – why was this so special? Could it be because Don was here? Before she could grow cross with herself, her thoughts were interrupted.

"What's the problem with an innocent dance, Ace?" Joe laughed openly as George giggled behind the bar. He turned to Luz then, "I don't think she likes me", he joked.

"Well that's just not true." Alice swallowed her nerves quickly before donning an amused smirk – why not have some fun? "Get over here, trooper", she acquiesced to him, and placed one arm around his neck and grabbed his right hand with hers.

"You make sure you bring her home before midnight, young man!" George called out as Joe spun her around, both of them laughing.

The swinging music swelled around her, Joe's arm was tight around her waist, and her heart suddenly pounded in her chest…this was familiar territory. She had always loved to dance – she knew every step there was to know out there…and feeling the beat in her body right now made her feel alive. It was a part of her past self that she wasn't attempting to shy away from…and that was an exhilarating realization.

Joe let go of her hand, and twirled her around quickly before grabbing her once more – she was having fun. And although the pair was gathering some interest from the other men, Alice didn't mind. …Another personal win for the evening.

"I've never danced with an honest-to-God pinup before", Joe confessed, dimples forming as he smiled at her.

"First time for everything", she offered, smiling back at him. She studied his handsome face as he led the dance, "You're a good dancer", she concluded. "Your cheeks are pink", she whispered good-naturedly, "Not used to someone praising your dancing skills?"

"My sister would be happy you said that – she's the one who taught me to dance", he affirmed evenly, the booze catching up with him now.

Penk whistled, "Would ya look at that? Toye and McRae – cuttin' a rug".

"They make a good lookin' dancing pair", Bill decided, a fresh, cool beer in his hand.

"Are they allowed to dance?" Don wondered aloud, his eyes zeroing in on Toye's arm around Alice's waist.

"Don't see why not", Skip shrugged, "Looks like they're having a good time…or are you just jealous that you didn't ask her first?"

Don immediately looked to Skip's face – and saw a dare brewing behind his knowing expression. Did he just call him out?

Penk and Bill didn't hear the accusation in Skip's comment as they drank. Bill laughed, "Looks like you gotta take a number if you want to dance tonight with the Ace!"

Beyond the makeshift bar top, a group of Paratroopers were queuing up next to the record player. Don narrowed his eyes instinctively, and Skip chuckled beside him.

OOOOOO

Johnny rounded on Alice, their group gathered around the far edge of the bar top now that the music was louder and the party in full swing, "McRae, I bet you've been to some swanky parties, huh?"

Skinny nodded, "yeah, high-rollin' parties in Hollywood?"

Alice smirked into her glass; "I've seen some interesting get-togethers in my time, sure".

"You've got to tell us more than that", Bill complained.

"That wouldn't be gauche, would it?" Alice asked innocently.

"No way", Skip affirmed.

The men waited patiently as Alice took her time and finished her drink, enjoying their interest for once, "Rita Hayworth and I once had a dance-off".

From their reaction, you would have thought she dropped a bomb.

"Jesus, are you serious?" Penk exclaimed.

"Who won?" Bull inquired.

"Gene Tierney said it was a draw…but I think I outlasted her", Alice commented confidently, winking stealthily at Don. Around her, the men grinned – obviously liking her take on the story.

Across from her, Don studied Alice – for once she was accepting the limelight from the men. It was nice to see her openly smile and laugh, instead of censoring her reactions like she'd done before. The more she spoke about her past, the more Don had to pinch himself. What a difference a year can make: she went from dance contests with Rita Hayworth, to jumping out of planes and getting chewed out by Sobel for a living.

No one else in the entire battalion caught Don's attention like Alice did. Why on Earth was that? Was it the simple fact that she was the only girl around? No – Don shrugged that easy excuse off his shoulders. Alice was different – more real than any other woman he'd gotten to know as a man. Surely, he wasn't the only one to think that. He looked around the bar, seeing the men giving Alice their undivided attention…and his gut burned…Don begrudgingly admitted to himself that he preferred having Ace all to himself. He'd have to learn to share now.

"What made you walk away from it all?" Lip asked cautiously.

Don's gaze jumped seriously to Alice, who took the honest question in stride. If it bothered her, she didn't let on. "I like to think I'm on a 'hiatus'", she said and then shrugged, feeling Don's eyes on her warming face, "I don't know – it's all life-experience, isn't it?"

"You chose a hell of way out it", Johnny observed, the men murmuring in soft agreement.

To Don's relief Alice smiled and nodded before speaking thoughtfully, "I left because I wanted to explore the world and see it for myself…see it for real and not through rose-colored lenses".

"That's an admirable thing to do", Don stated, knowing that somewhere deep down, Alice was ignoring an aspect of the real reason why she left. Curiously, his heart sped up at the abstract idea of her never joining the company…he never would have met her.

"We all walked away from something to be here", Alice asserted gently, "Mine just happens to be a little more avant-garde".

"A _little_ more?" Hoobler laughed.

"Touché", Alice joked. Don couldn't keep his eyes off her tonight it seemed – he watched her and recognized the bittersweet spark in her expression.

"Hey fellas…and Ace", Bill held his glass up, "Here's to us: Three Miles Up".

"Three Miles Down!"

OOOOOO

After all of the records on hand had been played through twice, three times over, bottles of beer were smuggled out into the nighttime Georgian landscape.

In a half-drunken game of follow-the-leader, Alice managed to take in her surroundings twenty minutes into their excursion. Their group had ended up standing in the wooded-area at the far edge of the shooting range.

Don voiced her thoughts aloud at that same moment, "who's the genius that led us here?"

"No one is here for target practice, Don, relax", Bill scoffed sideways.

Penk was about to chuck an empty beer bottle into the woods when Skip grabbed his arm, "whoa, I've got a wager for the group".

"Is it how many skirts you've left unsatisfied?" Perco announced proudly.

The group laughed collectively as Joe whistled and George giggled, "Perco! Bringing out the zingers this evening!"

"I'll have you know that every woman leaves my company completely satisfied", Skip ruled evenly, "isn't that right, Ace?"

Alice laughed; her hands held up, "I wouldn't know, Skip".

Skip grinned at her, "I've got a dare for the Ace". She arched her brow at him and he continued, taking Penk's empty bottle, "I'm gonna throw this bottle up and I want you to shot it out of the sky".

"It's too dark to see", Joe sneered.

"Nothing is too dark for the Ace", Bill goaded.

"I want to see if she can hit a moving target in the dark", Penk agreed.

A brief but tensed silence fell upon the group, all of them looking at Alice eagerly. She slipped her sidearm from her side and shrugged, "if it'll shut you all up, go ahead".

Skip shushed the group as held the bottle still, then lunged down and heaved it up into the air, towards the dense woods.

POP! – SMASH!

The sound of glass raining down into the woods followed the quick 'pop' of Alice's sidearm.

The group cheered. "Target eliminated", Don joked.

"Nice shot", Joe offered Alice.

"Don't let it go to your head, Ace", Bill joked.

"You're all so easily entertained", Alice laughed.

"What's next, what's next?" Perco asked. The men looked around them – all the bottles had since been drained and discarded on their walk here.

"I got it", Penk assured, "but I get to throw it this time – and it won't be an easy throw like Skip's". He slipped off his boot and Don chuckled darkly.

"You gonna let her destroy your boot?" he asked, disbelieving.

"Like I said, I get to throw it this time – gonna be a trick-throw", Penk defended.

Alice smirked at him, "ok, Penk – go ahead".

Penk made a show of winding up his throw; raising his arms above his head, swinging the boot around a couple times, and then letting it go at an odd angle.

POP! – THUNK!

In the darkness, the group could make out the boot exploding into two pieces as Alice hit her mark.

"Oh! There she blows, Penk", George whistled, "how is he gonna explain to the supply officer that he lost only one boot?"

"That's Penk's problem", Bill jabbed, and the small group laughed.

"Quite a party you've got going on here". A voice emerged from their rear – and the group turned, startled at the intrusion. Alice held her sidearm behind her back as she recognized Lieutenant Speirs from Dog Company, coolly approaching them.

She knew very little about the dark-haired Lieutenant…only that he was inscrutable, mysterious, and by-the-book. They were completely screwed. They remained silent as he stopped in front of them, and unhurriedly lit the cigarette that hung from his lips. Don's eyes darted over to Alice's, both of them at a loss as what to do.

"Lieutenant, we were…" Bill began…

Speirs cut him off without flinching as he snapped his lighter shut, "McRae."

Alice's stomach dropped, "yes, sir?" Beside her, Don gulped, readying himself to take the blame for anything the elusive Lieutenant might try to throw her way.

"I got the name right, McRae?" he asked, his dark eyes anchoring her into the mud beneath her jump boots.

She nodded her head, "yes sir, Lieutenant".

He kept his eyes on her as he spoke to the group, "I was on night patrol when I heard the gunshots." He steadily began walking towards her figure and Don clenched his jaw. "No company is scheduled for night drills or night shoots on the range…so I came to intercept any trespassers". Alice kept breathing and kept her eyes on the Lieutenant's; a man like this appreciates bravado…all she had to do was keep her cool. He stopped inches from her, never blinking, "trespassing, even as a trooper could cost you."

"Sir…" Don began.

"Tell you what, McRae", Speirs ignored him completely, "if you can hit the target _I_ throw, you and your friends go back to barracks and I forget I ever saw you."

She waited half a second to hear what happened if she missed; when he didn't provide that tidbit, she spoke, "yes sir. May I have one condition, sir?"

Don nearly shouted at her at her question. To his dismay, Speirs smirked at her, "what's the condition?"

Alice didn't hesitate, "if I miss, sir, any punishment is on me – not them".

"You got a deal", he replied. Don wanted to strangle her.

Alice produced her sidearm. Around her, the men stood silently, watching. Wordlessly, Speirs flicked his lighter in his hand and looked to her; she nodded imperceptivity. A millisecond later, he tossed the lighter up and into the woods.

POP! – PING!

No cheers followed her dead-on hit this time, only the crickets chirped their approval. Alice was buzzing inside form the adrenaline.

Speirs nodded, a near smug smirk on his face, "nice shot, McRae. Now get back to your barracks". With that, he walked off, unaffected.

After a full minute of silent marching back to base, Skip turned to them all, "Holy. Shit." His comment was met with wry grins and hushed laughing.

OOOOOO

"Is it really noisy in here, or is it just me?" Don poked her side.

Alice surveyed the barracks. Now that their group had survived a run-in with the infamous Lieutenant, the boys were getting rowdy. Bill and Toye were hurling rolled up socks and underwear at Skip and Penk. Hoob and Skinny were hooting at some nudey magazine, drawing the attention of Leib and Cobb. Perco and Luz were turning up the blaring radio. Bull was playing bartender and pouring drinks for the company.

"It's about to kick off, I can feel it", she responded back.

"Wanna smoke break?"

"You don't smoke…neither do I", she laughed.

"You say that now…" he jested.

"Alright, let's go out back", she nodded, following him out the door and around to the back of barracks. The night was cool, but the alcohol and adrenaline flowing between them both was more than enough to keep them comfortable without a jacket. "We've been pinned", she announced giddily.

He grinned, "That, we have". He studied her smiling face, shining under the dim lights from the open windows nearby, "Did you ever doubt yourself?"

Alice chuckled, "I had my moments…but no, I'm too damn stubborn to walk away from something I care about".

"I respect that", Don smirked.

"Well, I'm glad I earned that from you". She smiled at him, "can you believe Speirs?"

Don narrowed his eyes at her, "he's unhinged."

Alice shrugged, "I think he's committed."

"He should _be committed_."

"Ha – very funny".

"I'm right on that one", Don shook his head, "don't let anyone else tell you otherwise".

The both laughed softly, looking at one another. Alice recognized the change in the atmosphere – likened to a date delaying on your porch after walking you to the door.

Funny how the air can get sucked out of a room when you're standing outside; suddenly everything was foreign…and too intense.

She couldn't deny the beer's effect flowing in her veins…it was urging her to flirt, urging her to get closer to him; it was a temptation that she knew to avoid.

He acknowledged the persuasive effect of the alcohol he'd consumed earlier – beckoning him towards her. Why were there rules about this anyway?

Beyond their little bubble of attraction, men's voices and shouts floating about the base; loud music blared from multiple barrack's windows and created a stimulating mix of brass and bass.

"I didn't have the chance to ask you to dance earlier", he offered, using the statement as a hidden apology.

Alice's heart skipped a beat at his words, "Being the only woman around is an interesting experience", she was trying to play it cool, "I've never had my dance card that full", she laughed. "But it would have been amusing if the men started dancing with one another." He chuckled with her, his gaze unwavering…and so she took a chance – just to feel the heat rise in her body, "…I'm without a partner now."

Don recognized an invitation when he heard one. He stepped forward and grabbed her hand, "Care to dance?"

It was so natural; so she responded in kind before she censored herself and thought otherwise, "Love to". Deliberately, she stepped into his embrace; her arm around his neck and her hand held within his warm grasp.

Their movement was slow, humble…it was barely dancing – but it was one of the most intimate moments in Alice's life. The music was scarcely there, it had faded into the background – all she could concentrate on was that his arm was tight around her, holding her close.

This was surreal…and Alice let the turn of events wash over her…she was going to enjoy it.

Ever so gently, she tucked her head under his chin and Don could feel her breath along his collarbone. She smelled so good – all he could feel was the heat of her skin as he tried to control his breathing. This was a moment…this was intimate, and for whatever reason, Don knew he had to burn this into his memory. Was he drunk? Was this really happening? Whatever it was, and whatever came over them – he was going to let it happen.

In the suspension of the moment, the atmosphere shifted, and suddenly the ambient air around them held a tangible charge. It was as if suddenly, the potential of this moment was laid bare in front of them – ready to for the taking. The silent acknowledgement was heady. She could feel his heart pounding through her skin. He could feel her hand begin to fist the back of his shirt. Lightly, just so she said she did it, she pressed her lips against his chest – he didn't register the gesture. She breathed in, committing to memory the scent of his skin. He slowly dragged his hand up her back, pulling her closer and feeling her curve to his form.

She didn't know how long they stood there like that, holding onto one another…but the music started to disappear as radios were switched off for the night. She leaned back and her eyes met his in the dim back porch light of barracks. She watched as his gaze darkened and dropped to her lips.

Oh, she wanted to…she'd be lying to herself if she hadn't imagined this.

"It's been a hell of a night", she started very quietly, not wanting to admit what she was denying herself… Her breathing and the beating of her heart became louder as she struggled for words. She wanted to tell the truth…but that was too big a gamble for her. There was no guarantee that he felt the same way. After all, they had been drinking.

"And…" he breathed, and her heart dropped erotically.

"…And I'm going to try to be a little honest."

He pulled her closer, his hand dragging back down to her waist, "Just a little honest?"

She smiled, despite herself and continued carefully, "It'd be real fun to end it all with a kiss", Don stopped breathing, "But I'm really good at getting into trouble here".

Don knew what she was getting at: she was calling it a night. "I don't want to get you into trouble, not after we just got pinned."

"Nor do I want to get _you_ into trouble". His expression was unintentionally intense as his hand ran up her back once again. She dropped her head to his shoulder, her hands now on his chest, "We need to go inside".

What do you call that…that moment where you are invited to touch what's in front of you – only to desperately pull your hand away?

He nodded, so reluctant to let her go – not knowing if this would ever happen again. She was being nice…surely she couldn't actually mean that she wanted him to kiss her. "I should get you to bed", he began to pull away as she laughed breathily, "Not like that", he amended, thought he wanted to add '…yet" – but he didn't.

She leaned back, her eyes stopping on jaw, his cheeks, then came to rest on his eyes – they were glued to her face. Oh she wanted to kiss him – it'd be so easy; he wasn't moving and had basically put the option on a silver plate for her to take. But…everyone had been drinking…and they had already crossed a line here.

Lightly she dragged her fingers down his face and Don held his breath as she softly pressed her fingertips to his lips and closed her eyes – this was as close as should allow herself, "Goodnight Don".

His hands let her go as he smiled tenderly against her fingers, "Goodnight Alice".

 **Let me know what you think! I'm working on the next chapter :-)**


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